In Your Darkest Hours
by Nevara Alyss
Summary: AU. A young Hawke is sent into slavery and meets an unconventional ally. Freedom is a noble idea but when the price is weighted can they look back on all that they had lost and finally accept that what they had all along was each other?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This little ditty is a two perspective story. Both will encapsulate the PoVs of f!Hawke and Fenris from childhood to adulthood. Prepare for implications of violent sexual content and down right nastiness a la violence and language.**

**Disclaimer: BioWare owns the characters and locations... lucky bastards.**

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><p>The rains came to pass on the sleepy hamlet of Lothering. It was typical for the season that sowers would be out amongst their fields planting their seeds while the soil was moist. The temperate rain shower locked the Hawke children indoors for the day. It felt like an eternity in the small homestead. Adria could barely see out the rain speckled window. Her little feet were stretched as far as they could. On pointe, she strained to watch her father work. His tired features were shadowed by the long black wisps of hair that he fought to keep out of his face.<p>

In the background the small child could hear the twins bickering on the floor amidst a pile of blocks and dolls. Adria had recently come into her own. Her ability of spellcasting came as little shock to both of her parents, but they were concerned. In recent months, her mother had heard that her cousin's children had all been taken off to the Circle. It was a very real threat that she now posed on her family. She bit her lip and sniffled as she looked to her mother darning socks at the table and back to her father.

The arguing continued and Bethany squealed in agony. Her mother rose from her seat with a sigh and picked the whimpering child off the floor. Carver sat with a satisfied look on his face. His fraternal twin held her arm close to her chest, a small hand covering a hidden wound from sight. Their mother set her on the table top and gently pried the sniveling child's hand away. She scowled with a shake of the head and went to get a rag from off the counter.

Adria leaned into her younger sister curiously and saw the perfectly aligned rows of teeth marks on her forearm. Being the caring older sister that she was, she put her arm around her younger sibling and squeezed. Bethany relaxed when Mother came back and dabbed the painful impressions delicately.

"Adria, go get your father," Mother ordered without a look in her direction.

The mousy little girl hopped off the chair and opened the door and stepped onto the wooden porch. The rain pitter pattered on the awning. Slow streams of water fell from the eaves and puddled near the stairs. As any child would in the situation of puddles- she jumped off the deck into the pooling water and giggled. Muddy water splashed her pale legs, speckling them in brown grit. She bounced up and down a few more times making sure that she was good and dirty for when she returned inside.

"Father," the little girl called. She ran as fast as her little legs would carry. The grass underneath tickled her bare feet as she approached.

The kind man looked down at her with a smile. Adria spun in the rain, enjoying the warm water hit her bare skin. She looked up to the heavens letting the little kisses of water hit her face.

"What are you doing out here?" Father asked. He crouched down to her level. He dusted his hands off and patted her on the head.

"Mother sent me to get you," Adria said. She twisted her damp hair around her finger. Her dark green eyes glistened in the waning sun. "Carver bit Bethany and-."

Her father frowned and stood. "That's all I need to hear." He held his hand out for her to take but Adria resisted.

"Can't I play for a little while longer?" Adria whined.

Her father laughed and shook his head.

"Your mother would kill both of us if I left you out here to play in the rain." Adria frowned. Her pouty lip jutted out and her chin quivered. Her father exhaled and swept the small child up in his arms. "Maybe we'll work on some magic in a little bit. How about that?"

Adria nodded with fervor. They both returned inside, where the insanity seemed to subside. Adria's mother had resumed her stitching and Carver sat on a small stool in the center of the room. His chin was in his hand. He glared at his sisters and stared off into space.

"What's going on, love?" her father asked, letting the child slide to the floor.

"Nothing, Malcolm. It is already taken care of," the worn out woman answered, never taking her eyes from her work.

"Well, I'm going to work with Adria for a little bit," he looked down at his eldest daughter with a wink and led her out of the house. He took her to a small building just behind the dwelling and unlocked the bolted door.

Adria stood in the middle of the ramshackle room and waited for her father to set up for their daily lesson. She had learned barely anything about the art of spell casting, but she always anticipated some new breakthrough in her education. Malcolm shut the door and turned to the little girl, whose eyes gleamed in the dim light.

"Alright, little girl, we're going to work on something difficult. Are you up to that?" Malcolm asked. He pulled a stool from the wall and sat on it. "Control. We're going to work on how you can hide your abilities from others."

"Why would I want to hide it?" she questioned, cocking her head.

"Because, magic frightens people and the templars will try to take you away if they find out about it."

"But magic is a gift, isn't it?"

"It is a very special gift; one that takes great responsibility to control and maintain. Once you learn to control yourself with it then the words and motions will come simply. A simple heal spell or fireball spell can come back-with negative consequences- if done incorrectly."

"So I can do really bad things?"

"If you don't do them correctly- yes."

"I don't want to do that," Adria muttered rapidly shaking her head.

"I know you don't. You can do some very basic spells, but sometimes when you get angry you have a tendency to let things get out of control. The day we found out you could cast spells you nearly burnt the house down and it was all over something small and meaningless."

"It wasn't meaningless," the little girl snapped. She balled her hands up into fists and shook angrily.

"Dearest one, relax. You'll learn what is really important and what isn't when you get older." He rose from his seat and stood behind the girl. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. "Now I want you to cast a small fire spell, but do not release it. Just hold it there."

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><p>Darkness fell over the hills and small valley where the Hawke family resided. After the dishes had been cleaned and the children had been tucked away for the evening, Adria laid in bed looking up at the ceiling. She tried to think through all things her father had said and left little doubt that magic wasn't truly a gift from the Maker, but a cold and calculating attempt at misery. For someone as young as she- whose six year old mind couldn't fathom the complexity at which her powers could contain- she was going to correct the world of its misgivings about the negative obligations that mages had. As a whole, she had no real grasp of what the implications of the Fade or blood magic, abominations had to do with her or how they could affect the way she did things.<p>

A small whimper caught her attention and saw a bleary-eyed Bethany standing beside her bed. Adria scooted over and opened the blankets for her younger sister. Sacrificing her comfort and pillows for her sister; she dozed off. She tried to keep those terrifying thoughts from invading her dreams but woke in spurts of cold sweats and dazed recollections.

Crashing and yelling from outside of the children's room awoke Adria. Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, caught sight of her mother's frame pressed against the door. The frightened child sat up in bed with a start. A scuffling sound neared the door and her mother became startled. She grabbed the knob and closed her eyes.

"Momma?" Adria questioned in the blackened room. "What's wrong?"

"Hush, darling." She waved the scared child to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I need you to get your brother and sister out of here. Understand?"

"But why?"

"It's-," Glass shattered on the floor and Malcolm yelling overshadowed her wracked nerves. "Just get them out the window and run. I will be right behind you."

Adria started to cry. She was terrified. She had no idea what was going on and the way her mother was acting, things were not going anywhere near a positive direction. Her mother brushed her dark locks away and smiled. An abrupt kick to the door sent Adria's mother sprawling to the floor beside her. Three imposing shadows walked into the room. They stood over the little girl with their weapons drawn. Adria heard her father yelling at them to get away from her. One of the helmed men picked up the semi-conscious woman at her feet and dragged her from the room. Another dragged both of her siblings from bed. They shrieked in terror at the strangers that had so forcefully grabbed them from the safety of their beds. The one that remained grabbed Adria by the hand and bound her hands in rope before shoving her out the door into the small family room.

"Mother and children are all bound and ready for transport, Captain," one of the men said to a larger and meaner looking man in the doorway.

The four of them huddled in the corner in fear as they watched their father and husband struggle with two more men. His hands were restrained to the table. He looked at his loved ones with no fear.

"Well, he's of no use to us," the captain responded.

"Please don't hurt them," Malcolm pleaded.

"We wouldn't do that."

The captain withdrew a long and heavy sword from its sheath. It still glowed brightly in the faint light. Adria watched it in shock. The way it bent the yellow and orange light from the dimming fire was mystical. The sadistic captain looked at the child an evil smirk spread across his face. Yet his eyes were devoid of any true emotion.

"Leandra, look away. Shelter the children," Malcolm told her.

Leandra covered the twins' eyes and slammed her own shut, leaving Adria staring into the face of horror. She couldn't look away. She watched as the man swung the blade through the air and lopped off her father's hand. A spray of blood splattered across the stunned girls face. The sound of steel snapping bone formed a hard pit in the little girl's stomach. Malcolm screamed. He clenched his teeth as his hand fell to the floor with a thud. Malcolm's eyes fell on the bound child and frowned. He uttered something to her, but she couldn't make out the words.

Adria brought her hands to her face and smeared away some of the wet and foreign fluid from near her eyes and looked at it. She smeared it in her fingers and shook with rage. _Control_. She had to fight her very powers to keep from kindling an already dire situation into a firestorm of blood and damnation. A second thud to the table and an equally loud scream made the once carefree lass jump with a start. The slow trickle of blood splattered the floor.

"Get them out of here," the captain ordered the marauders.

Heavy hands picked Adria up. She couldn't stop watching her father. The pools of blood that formed around the table started to trickle through the grout work of the stone floor. She was lifted off the floor and flung over the shoulder of a man. His heavy armor dug into her ribs and she yelped in agony as the scales cut into her. She caught the final glimpses of her father watching her as she was removed from the scene.

Her mother cried as she was drug along. Bethany and Carver were both hoisted on to the shoulders of other men. They were sobbing violently, but Adria remained stoic not showing her emotions, not letting the weakness get to her. She wasn't going to satisfy them with her frightened wailing. She repeated to herself over and over again the last words that her father told her at the end of their lesson: _everything you do and don't do- even magic- is based off emotions. If you can control that then you will control all the forces that remain in constant imbalance._


	2. Chapter 2

The grass was a luscious green as the elven siblings played in the garden of their master's estate. Giggles and revelry emanated from the little bodies as they gave chase after each other. Squeals of delight that would be hushed by their mother from a distance would be ignored and the games continued.

It was warm and sticky that afternoon. Red faces frolicked taking diligent strides to hide amongst the fading shade as ragged clothes clung to dampened skin. The day was relaxing for them given that their master had scolded the children for being noisy miscreants and assumed a posture of complete and utter dominance over their mother.

They tried to stay quiet, but the whims of children were fleeting and when so-called adventure heralded them to a game of damsel in distress- they jumped at the chance.

"I will slay the monster," the elven boy barked in a defiantly strong voice.

He ran across the grass, his bare feet slapped across the pavement towards his sister at full sprint. His disheveled appearance mattered little as he dove to his sister and rolled into the dirt feet from his mother. He dusted himself off briefly and shook the dirt from his black hair. He continued after his sister and gave chase when she bolted for their mother's skirt.

"You can't get me," the eleven lass stated. She stuck her tongue out and pulled the skirt up in front of her face to hide the snickers and giggles she was eking out in front of her brother.

"That's not fair," the boy grumbled.

He kicked a pebble into the grass and sauntered away. He tucked his hands in his pockets and felt the holes that were ripped into them.

"Leto! Wait!" the girl screamed. "I still want to play."

"Then play," he snapped. "I'm going to go-."

He headed in the direction of the estate and stopped when a man blocked him from continuing. Leto stared for a moment and without thinking about the ramifications of his child-like curiosity he looked up at the man. The man paid him no notice and turned to the magister and continued speaking with him.

"Three weeks," the magister said. "A new batch of slaves should be coming in."

"Thinking about taking another one in, Danarius?" the master asked.

"Why not? It doesn't hurt to have more does it?"

"Do you know where they are getting these ones? Any place specific or is it going to be just the random assortment of useless waste as it has been the last few months?"

"The usual, I'm guessing. I have a special order coming in with that batch. Something atypical of the usual offal that seems to find its way here." Danarius finally turned to Leto and smiled. "A plaything more or less and when I tire of them they will be put to use all the same."

"A plaything? You are deviant my friend," the magister snorted. "It's a wonder you aren't held in sanctions because of it."

"And why would I be? I have certain requirements and I tire of the mundane. I want something exotic and out of the ordinary every once in a great while," Danarius sniffed the air with a pompous attitude.

"How exotic?" The master's eyes squinted with curiosity. "Are we talking Rivain? Orlais?"

"Been there. Done that," Danarius said with a wave of the hand. "Something quiet and learns who is in charge quickly. I didn't pay those slavers the exorbitant sums of coin to be wasted on something I could pick up out of some back alley, toy with for a weekend and then put them down."

"Long term then?" The man chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sure the other magisters would love to have your taste in women."

"I never said I was looking for a woman," Danarius sneered. "Something that I can mold into something I want is more ideal."

"A child? Really?"

"And why not? They are the most impressionable of anyone." Danarius crossed his arms and winked at Leto with a grin. Leto smiled back and saw the master glare at the child. "You can't expect perfection to come rolling in all at one time. The older they are- the harder they are to breakdown."

The master rose from his seat and slammed the door to the garden, separating Leto from the two men. He jumped back, startled and turned back to his mother who was doing the wash. He sat at her feet and watched the sudsy water slosh out of the tub and onto the ground. He stuck his feet into the dirty water and cooled his heels. He didn't understand the ramifications of the conversation; all he thought was that he might be gaining a new friend whenever Master Danarius would come over.

It would have been nice to have someone new to antagonize and square off against. Even if it was a girl. Girls were gross anyways. He already had a sister to hassle, why mock the chance that some other little elven girl would come along and be accepted into the already overabundant hustle and bustle of the city was beyond him. Slavery was a concept he understood, given that he was born into it, but he didn't face the same responsibilities that his mother faced. She had always warned him to stay away from the master just to keep prying eyes off of her son.

He lay back on the ground and stared into the blue sky. Clouds speckled the sky as he tried to imagine the numerous shapes that could be accounted for_. A rock, a supposed bunny, another rock, a duck, a man with a sword, a… cloud. _He tired of the game quickly and laid his head against his mother's leg. His eyes were heavy- the heat exhausting to the young boy in filthy clothes and grimy black hair. A cool damp hand rubbed against his cheek and he burrowed his face into her skirt. A sense of safety and security allowed him to close his eyes. Not knowing it would be the last time he'd ever smell his mother's scent or feel her touch again.

The wooden plate sat in front of Leto. The stale crust of bread and wilted carrot adorned the plate in an unpalatable fashion. His mother was conveniently absent after being pulled aside during dinner. He looked at Varania who held her rag doll close to her and sat slouched in the chair. She couldn't stomach the food as much as he could. The small quarters left little to the imagination. It was unbearably hot with the hearth alight with fire. Leto picked up the pale orange carrot and bent it with ease. It didn't snap; it just flopped around as he shook it in the air. He tossed it on to the platter and took a sip of water.

"Do you know where Mother is?" Varania asked as she stroked the stringy hair of her doll.

Leto didn't answer. He turned in his chair and stared at the door hoping that his mother would emerge from whatever clandestine destination she went to. They both knew that it was late and that the dinner service should have been completed hours ago. It was so unlike her to not be there so long after the sun had set and the crickets outside played their mating songs.

The door cracked, hesitated and slowly opened up. Their mother stood there, wet lines streaked her face and her usually well placed hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders. Leto rose from his seat and approached his mother. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her like that. The bruises in the shape of hand prints that marked her arms, her clothing that she tried to keep to a certain level of cleanliness was torn and hung on her.

"Mother?" Leto squeaked as he took her hand.

"It's alright, son." She squeezed his hand and feigned a smile to reassure him that she was alright. He saw through the lie and scowled.

"Mother!" Varania cried as she ran to her mother and through her arms around her waist.

Their mother winced at the pressure but shook off their looks of dread when they looked up at her. Leto led her to the table and sat her down in his chair. He took a small rag from off a rack and wet it in a filthy pail of water. He wrung it out and started for his mother and saw her watching him with a faint smile.

"You are such a good boy, Leto."

The boy started dabbing the various wounds that were of various depths into her flesh. He kept watching her for signs of pain but got nothing. His mother couldn't look at him anymore and her head rested on her hand. Varania sat in the chair next to her and scooted it closer. The legs squeaked across the wood floor digging shallow gouges into it.

"This is your fault," Varania hissed.

Leto stopped nursing his mother's injuries and looked at his sister square in the eye. His heart quickened at her implication. Their mother looked at Varania and glared.

"It's not his fault," their mother insisted. She placed her free hand on her daughter's and patted it lovingly.

"But if Leto hadn't interrupted Master's discussion then he wouldn't have been so angry at you," the girl argued.

Her words were biting and instigating a confrontation that Leto didn't want to participate in; not with her at least.

"I could kill him," Leto stated. He continued working letting his eyes glance at the reactions of both his mother and sister.

"No," their mother scolded. "Don't ever think that. If such words are overheard then no matter the damage I endure will save you from whatever punishment they would want to inflict on you."

Leto threw the rag onto the table and paced in front of them. He was deep in thought over what to do. He could easily sneak into the manner and slit the man's throat and no one would be the wiser, but if his mother was right then everything she had overcome and dealt with would be for nothing. He didn't want to put her through any more pain and if what happened to her was a direct result of his actions then it should have been him to be abused. No matter how much his mother sacrificed in her attempts to protect him he knew that given the opportunity he would trade places with her.

He didn't want Varania to succumb either to the unenviable task of slave and whore. He wanted something better for them. He was tired of living in squalor where when hell came upon them it was their mother that took the brunt of the action. He just needed the chance to break free of it all. He would save them. Be the knight in shiny armor that was only uttered during nightly stories before bedtime when he was younger.

Even then, those stories became further and further apart and he never really knew if the hero saved the damsel at the end. Maybe she died, maybe he died. Maybe both. It didn't matter in his mind the sacrifice and struggle were what made the adventure great. And yet as much as he tried to be the savior for his family, he was still a child that couldn't help but feel utterly helpless to lay witness to the aftermath of their master's hatred and abuse. He wanted to save someone, anyone; to complete the story that still remained unfinished in his mind.

The door swung open with no warning. Their mother stood and hid the children behind her back as Danarius and their master strolled in. The two men stared at the battered elven woman with sneers.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Master?" she questioned. She looked to the ground and pressed her children tightly against her to shield them from view.

"There's nothing you can do for me now," he remarked. He paused and glanced around the side of her to Leto whose eyes were glaring at the man scornfully. "Well there is one thing." He grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him around to the front. Leto fought him and sunk his teeth into his hand. The master pulled his hand back and shook it feverishly just to let the pinching throb subside. He sneered at the boy and backhanded him across the face.

Danarius laughed with amusement and picked the child up off the floor.

"This one has spunk," he chortled. "I'll take him."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Leto retorted.

Danarius' expression changed to amusement to anger. He clutched the child's face in his hand and stared down at him.

"You will. Trust me. The deal is done," he hissed with sickening glee.

A woman came around the side and saw Leto. She frowned and tried to hide it, but it was all too obvious what she was thinking. She knelt down and held the boys hand.

"Isn't he the cutest thing," she cooed in a sarcastic tone.

Leto wrenched his head out of the magister's hand and spun to face his mother. Her eyes were filled with tears for her son.

"Mother?" he eked. She sighed and remained motionless. Danarius and the woman grabbed each of his hands and started to drag the struggling child away. "Mother!" He kept looking back to see if she was going to resist and fight for him to stay. It's what any mother would have done. "Mother!" he called a final time. The last glance he caught of his mother and sister was their backs turning to him as they listened to what their master was saying.

He stopped fighting his captors and meandered with them. His feet hesitated against their strides and wanted to set their own, but the pace they were keeping up with only hindered any attempt to break free of them. _Why am I being sent away? _Danarius looked down Leto and smirked.

"You will make a fine slave one day."

_I'm not a slave. I won't be a slave. You'll regret taking me from my family one day. Mark my words._


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn had broken as the raiders walked through the wooded area. Adria marched with bare feet through sharp sticks and rocks as a man behind her shoved her along to keep pace with the rest of the group. Her feet throbbed and she knew that there were numerous injuries to the soles and ankles. Her wrists were bruised with the rope burns that restrained her hands from freedom. She was filthy; her night shirt was torn and ripped. The flannel tore at the hem and flitted in the breeze subtly, exposing her knees. They were burned and bruised with all the falling and stumbling she had done since the man had forced her to carry her weight.

The twins had been silenced what seemed like hours before. Rags had been lashed around their heads to gag them from their incessant wailing. The weary child looked at them and frowned. She had hoped there was something she could do to save them, but with her size and inexperience she wouldn't be able to take on so many grown men at once. If only she was a little bit older she might have been able to make a difference. Maybe her father would be alive right now. She hated herself for being so helpless to him during his mutilation.

She tried to recount what her father had said to her. She broke it down in slow motion and let the insurmountable task of repetition through horror flood back to her. Malcolm knew what was coming. Whether he was telling her to turn away as well or whether he was apologizing she wasn't sure. Adria knew she couldn't turn away. Her curiosity was one of undeniable depth. It didn't matter whether it was life or death or how the world worked, she had to know everything. Why she hadn't looked away could have been her inquisitiveness getting the better of her, but the abnormal intrigue she held for her father's torture with nary a shred of real emotion frightened her more than anything.

The group stopped in front of what should have been a condemned shack. The captain removed his helm and kicked open the door. He drew his weapon and stepped inside. Adria looked over at her mother, who was walking dead. She hadn't ever seen her mother so beside herself as she had been right then. The once proud and beautiful woman who even when they fell on hard times carried herself as one above her station always proper and serene, now had nothing left but her restraints and ratty hair hanging in her face. She was sooty from head to toe with dirt and debris that smeared across her face.

"We'll set up here," the captain said.

He stood in the doorway and replaced his sword at his side. A violent shove from behind forced Adria to start walking again. She resisted and looked over her shoulder at the masked man. He glared down at her and raised his hand to strike her for her insubordination. She recoiled as the man's hand came down towards her. A gruff hand stopped the incoming smack and the frightened girl slowly relaxed. The captain had come to her rescue. She breathed a sigh of relief and kicked the man in the shin. Her toes cracked as they hit the greave, but she reserved the agonizing pain for herself.

"We want them unharmed you idiot," the captain growled. "We aren't going to make any money off of them if we turn them in damaged."

The slaver wrenched his arm away and stormed off towards the house. Adria watched as her remaining family was led inside. She turned to follow with a slight skip in her step. She was satisfied with her juvenile retribution, but it was short lived. The slaver captain yanked her back to him by the collar of her night shirt and spun her around. Her ankle popped unnaturally and she grimaced with the jolt of pain that radiated to her knee. It wasn't broken; she could still bare weight on it. That didn't make little difference however. How she was going to get away now?

She eyed the captain with contempt and it resonated with him in a way he never thought it would. He was at a loss for words. The way he looked at her was unsettling to the child who at one moment showed signs of terror and submission and at the next out right accusatory defiance. She was enigmatic and strong willed. For all he knew he should be asking double the money he got for this little doglord brat. He didn't know if she would survive the rigors of servitude. She seemed too old for what his patron had sent him to look for. The younger one seemed to be more to the specifications he was required to return with, but this one with dark green eyes with orange starbursts in the center seemed more or less… special.

"Sir," a man called from behind the two of them.

They both looked at him questioningly. Adria went to leave but felt the firm grasp of the man's hand on her clothes still.

"What is it?" the captain asked. His fist bawled further into the fabric. It started to strangle the girl when she pulled away.

"Some of the men are concerned when our transport is supposed to be here."

The man took a couple of steps and stopped right in front of the wriggling child. He smirked at her struggle and straightened up when the captain stood in front of him. He yanked Adria to his side nearly sending her to the ground.

"Soon. We'll be meeting them here this evening."

The man saluted and resumed his position at the door. The captain dragged Adria inside with him and led her to a small room where her siblings and mother were already being stowed away. They were huddled in the corner like scared raccoons in a den. Adria ran to them and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. She buried her face in her neck and sniffled gently. The slaver captain slammed the door and left them alone to their misery.

"Are you alright, love?" Mother asked as she wiped the few strands of hair from her daughter's face.

Adria nodded slowly and removed herself from the group. The three of them looked at her with confusion in their eyes. The girl took a step backward and then another and held her ear to the door. She scanned the room for any way to escape and found that the lone window to their prison had been nailed shut.

Boots shuffled about the wooded floor as their captors meandered around. Chairs fell over and the crack of wood made her pull away in fear of what was going on in the adjoining room. She could hear a conversation, but the language it was spoken in made little sense to her. The voices- from what she could tell- were harsh and angry.

She looked over at her mother and shook her head with regret. She wished she could help them and while the boy of the family was now supposed to be the protector, Adria held little hope for his actual involvement in any of the goings on of strategic planning. Besides, what could she possibly concoct on her own but childish ramblings and weak minded indecision.

* * *

><p>Adria sat cross legged on the floor. Her back leaned against the wall. She stared at her hands and the wounded feet that had carried her for miles. She muttered to herself as she rubbed them. The grime and grit fell to the floor and her wounds slowly faded away. Her mother watched her heal her various wounds. It was exhausting work and the small child's head fell back against the wall with a thud. She rolled her head to her family and scooted closer to them. Adria pulled the gags from her siblings' mouths and frowned at the deep red lines that the cloths had left. She didn't know if she had the energy to mend their wounds, but she was going to try.<p>

She mumbled a different incantation and watched as the ropes turned a deep brown and finally black. A small plume of smoke rose from her bindings and wafted into the air. She could smell it as could they. She prayed that the evil men outside wouldn't take notice of her escape attempt. Let alone her magic. She worked feverishly at the numerous braids. Weighted footsteps neared the door and she struggled with the finally thick layers that restrained her. Her hands scrabbled against the twine and slid them loose just as the slaver captain swung the door open.

Adria stood and ran at him with a scream. Her arms flailed as she barreled into him at full speed. It was a fight for her life and the lives of her remaining kin. She sent the captain to the floor with her landing on his chest. She clawed at him several times before he caught her wrists and resumed control of the situation. Adria continued to fight him with all of her might, even if it was a losing battle she still wanted to give her family a chance. She felt a concussion to the side of her head. Mother's voice yelped in horror at the strike to her child. She covered her children's eyes and whispered to them prayers of the Maker. It wasn't very inspirational to the child that had sacrificed her short life to those that now sat terrified at what she had done. Her head was woozy and the slow drips of blood fell from the tips of her feathered hair and onto the tops of her feet. Her vision went blurry and she shrieked. She was dizzy and stumbling as the final glimpses of light slipped away.

* * *

><p>"Hey," the captain's voice came through the haze followed by a hard nudge to her foot.<p>

Weakened by the assault on her cranium, Adria opened her eyes to a room that spun at varying speeds. Her eyes followed the spiral of wood and diminutive faces that hovered over her. She turned in the direction of where her mother and siblings had been nestled. Her head throbbed when she turned and saw Carver sitting alone his knees to his chest and his face was hidden in the folds of his pajamas. He sobbed into his knees and every attempt Adria made to rise and console him was marked with the exquisite pain and starbursts from the rather obvious head wound that had matted her hair to her face. Her eyes darted to the weeping boy and back to the captain who was glaring down on her.

"Sir, we're ready," the soldier from before stated outside the room.

"Where's Mother?" Adria grumbled. She hurried to her knees and toppled back over onto her side. The angry man snatched her up by her hair and dragged her out of the room.

"Get the boy," the captain ordered.

Adria turned to her brother and fought to break free of the man that had gripped a new set of rope that had been laced around her wrists. The sun had fallen behind the tree tops and the azure sky had turned a shade of amaranthine. She stumbled out the door and was forcibly escorted to the back of the formerly abandoned shack. She heard Carver's snuffling and gasping as they stopped in front of her mother and sister bound together with rope. Two slavers held them on the ledge of a well. Their eyes trained on the petite child but no expression could be seen behind the closed helms and obscuring masks.

"Momma," Adria questioned at the battered woman.

The girl started towards her mother and was quickly stopped by the captain slamming his hand into her chest. She looked up at the man and back at her mother.

"Hush, darling, it's alright," her mother whispered.

Bethany was silent but those large eyes told her older sister volumes about what happened in the hours of her unconsciousness.

"Think you can break away from us," the captain spat. He held out his hand and received a length of rope. Adria followed it with her eyes and saw that it was the same one that held her mother and sister together. "You want to save your family, you dog lord bitch? Here's your chance!" He planted the rope in her hand and squeezed her hands shut around it. Adria looked at her brother who was restrained by one of the men. His sword was pressed against the statuesque child. His eyes pleaded for her to save them. She didn't know what to do or how she was going to rescue them with the available rope in her hand. "If you can pull them out of the well, they will live. If not… well, they won't it's as simple as that."

"You have to save them, Sister!" Carver finally squeaked.

"I don't know how," Adria admitted with a heavy heart.

"It's simple."

He nodded to the two men. They nodded and shoved the two into the well. Bethany screamed as they started to fall. The slack was being drawn away from her quickly.

Adria felt the tug of the rope and she fought it. Her arms shook as she tried to maintain her grasp of both her mother and sister's dead weight. Her heels dug into the softened soil and she yelped as the sudden jerk of their stop pulled her joints taut. She combatted the agony as long as she could. She heard her mother's voice emanating from the hole. She kept telling her it was okay if she let them fall. It wasn't her fault.

"I can't!" The rope slid in her hand. It scraped a layer of flesh away from her hands and strung it along the threads. Carver shrieked at her ineptitude. She didn't have the strength; it was too much for her to bear. She didn't want to let them down like she had before. Or like her father hours before. "Oh Maker, give me strength!" she screamed. She pulled with all of her might and saw the return of some of the rope. Her eyes lit up with the small glimmer of hope that she was going to actually succeed. The loose dirt caked at her heels as she wound the rope around her bound fists and lashed it around her waist. She took a step and then another.

A twig snapped and broke her concentration. Her grip loosened and the friction rubbed her hands raw. Several more feet pulled through her hands and was coated in a heavy streaking of red. Her hands became wet with blood as it seeped through her fingers. She cried out in agony and looked at the captain. He was enjoying her pain. It was a lesson that would last if she survived any of this. She struggled to regain what she lost. Adria centered herself and fought again. She was losing this battle and the more she realized it, the more she denied herself the reality of what was going to happen to them.

The troupe of men laughed at her, called her names. They taunted her and antagonized her shortcomings. She cried. As much as she had held onto her waning composure it was a staggering example of determination. Her eyes blurred with tears and she hadn't noticed the captain unsheathe his sword.

"Alright, alright," he said. The group quieted and for a split second the wounded child thought she had succeeded in his challenge. She smiled when he glanced at her. "Just hold it there and we'll take care of them." Adria felt her shoulders separating from their sockets, but she was willing to take the damage if it meant that they were going to be safe and with her again. She would mend herself when it was all over and she vowed not to run again. She wasn't going to put them in jeopardy like she had.

She nodded in agreement.

The man raised the sword over his head and in an instant the moonlit glint of steel sliced through the rope. The weight was released and Adria fell to the ground on her stomach. She gasped and saw the remainder of frayed rope slide over the side of the rock wall. It followed the shrieking Bethany and the abnormally silent mother. Distant thuds seeped from the hole and then complete silence. She couldn't breathe. She shook her head, dismayed at what had happened.

The men roared with laughter. The captain chuckled and snatched the child up. Adria looked at her brother who was hiding behind his hands.

"Take the girl and get ready for the transfer. That blasted slave master should be here soon."

He shoved the girl in the direction of her brother. Her eyes fell to the ground. Her hands throbbed and still bled. The slaver placed his hand on her shoulder and took her and her brother back inside. He sat both children in chairs at the table in the center of the room. It was filled with scattered papers and maps. Adria tried to read what was there but again the language didn't seem to help her obtain anything.

Carver stared at her, numbed by the experience. Adria had disconnected all together. The slaver cut the ropes away from her wrists and moistened a tattered cloth in a small cup of water. He dabbed her small hands only stopping to see if he was causing any discomfort. The girl showed no emotion what so ever.

"I'm sorry about your mother," he finally muttered. He took off his helmet and placed it at his feet. "That was a rotten thing to do to you and them."

Adria stared blankly at him. She examined him for sincerity and found it in the way the young man's eyes kept diverting away from hers. She winced as he applied pressure and bit her tongue to keep from verbally assaulting him He was just as culpable just as liable as those that had heckled her. She hated him.

_Control._

"Is momma alright?" Carver asked.

The slaver looked at him with hurt in his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm sorry."

"But I want Momma and Bethany!"

"I know. I know."

"Carver," Adria mumbled. "They can't come back."

_Control._

The man sighed and wrapped her hands in bandages.

"I know it's hard to understand right now but you'll be well taken care of from here on out."

"Don't lie to us," Adria spat.

The foot soldier was taken aback by her tone. She was defiant cold and filled with a fearful desire to maim him. It didn't matter what he had done for her in the brief aftermath.

"I didn't sign on for this part. I just wanted to make some quick money. I wish you kids understood."

He walked away and came back with a small sack. It rattled as he sat it down on the floor in front of him. Adria watched as he pulled the metal shackles out of the back and clapped them on. They were much heavier than the rope and were just barely loose enough for her to move in. He shackled her ankles paying close attention to not pinch her in the bindings. When he was satisfied that she couldn't wriggle loose of them he moved onto her brother. Carver didn't fight. He just sat and watched his sister go from the spiteful fireball she usually was to a more submissive and broken child. All the life drained from her face as she jiggled the chains. If he had only known in the few short years that they had been around each other that she had just tucked away the final remnants of what made her who she was he wouldn't have given up on himself as well.

The slaver pulled the final pieces of their "attire" out and began to pull the soft cloth over Adria's eyes. She was blinded and sitting in the dark. Her lip trembled slightly at the finality of the exposition. She heard Carver whimper. She could only assume he was getting the same treatment that she had. A hand patted hers followed by a heavy sigh.

"You won't have to wait long. Trust me."

She listened to the heavy boot steps lead away from her. She turned in their direction and cleared her throat. The sound stopped and she smiled.

"You do know he's going to kill you and all the other's right?" she asked.

"That's purely conjecture at this point."

"If he's willing to do the things to us and lose money to prove a point then you are just another person to stand in his way of the goal."

"You're a child. What could you possibly know about any of this?" the man snapped.

"Just watch yourself. And when you taste his blade remember my words."

The man snorted.

"Which is?"

"I told you so."


	4. Chapter 4

The water was cold. So very cold. It sent shivers up the elven boy's spine. Goosebumps dotted his flesh as another bucket of chilling water was poured over his head. He closed his eyes letting the soapy water pour down his face. The smell was faint the water black from the ground in dirt that had matted his hair. His eyes searched around the bleak room but avoided the contact of the slave that was washing him.

The elderly woman made attempts to open communication with him but Leto shunned her all the same. A course sponge rubbed his skin to a glowing red. Wavy sunlight shimmered off the ripples and blinded him every time he looked at his hands. Pruned fingers gently emerged, breaking the surface and sunk back down into the depths. The woman sighed in exasperation and tossed the sponge into the water splashing the child in the face.

"It won't be so bad, dear," she stated. "Just listen to what the master says and all will be well. Trust me."

She grabbed a towel from beside her and opened it. Her arms were wide in an accepting motherly way but Leto wouldn't have it. She wasn't his mother. How dare she try to console him!

"I want to go home," Leto muttered. His eyes squinted in the blaring sun and stood up in the tub.

He was thankful to be out of the ice cold drink if only to step onto the sunbaked patio that burned his feet. The woman threw the towel around him and pulled him close. Even with the soft textures of the plush towel drying him, the scratchy, irritating sponge had scraped off a layer of skin that had left him stinging with each swipe she made.

"What is your name, child?"

"Leto," the elf grumbled.

"Everything will work out in the end. I promise." The woman patted his head and dried his hair. "That's what my mother told me and what I told my daughter."

"Is she here?"

The woman frowned and nodded.

"Can I play with her?"

He tried to let his guard down for a split second but resented the obligatory niceties when he saw that mean woman standing in the doorway. The old woman took notice of the rigidity of the child's stance and looked over her shoulder.

"Play time is over for you," the young woman stated with a snide tone.

The kind old woman stood and rapped the towel around the nude child.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," she muttered with her head bowed. "I was just-,"

"Giving him hope that he doesn't deserve," the woman interrupted with a sneer. "It doesn't matter what you tell him. Or fleeting fiction you feed to the little bastard, he's going to learn that you don't escape or leave anywhere."

She snatched the boy by the arm and led him upstairs. Her finger nails dug into his flesh when he struggled, but maintained a firm grip so as not to mar the pretty little elf's skin. Leto kept looking around taking in the extravagating pieces of art and fine finishings that decorated the walls and floors. Crystalline chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the tear drops of crystal chimed in the faint breeze that came from the opened windows. She unlatched a door and dragged him to where Master Danarius was seated behind a desk.

"What is it now, Hadriana?" Danarius asked as he set a scroll down. He interlaced his fingers and smiled at the green-eyed elf.

"He is cleaned the way you wanted him to be, Danarius," Hadriana snapped.

She shoved the boy in front of her and crossed her arms.

Leto shook from the cold interior and looked at the man who had been uncharacteristically kind to him.

"Come here, Leto," Danarius called in a gentle voice.

The boy stood there unable to move no matter how much he was being beckoned. A hard smack landed to the back of his head. Leto turned and saw Hadriana scowling angrily at the insubordination.

"You heard him. Move!"

The elf turned back to Danarius questioningly and gripped the towel tighter around him. He took one nervous step and then another till he was beside his new master. He tried to look away, but the magister's mischievous look made him curious as to his intention.

"There now," Danarius uttered. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed. "How was your bath?"

"It was-," He stopped to think of the proper descriptor and resigned himself to the obvious. "Cold."

Danarius chuckled and nodded for Hadriana to leave. The woman bowed and took her leave.

"It's been quite the adjustment for you since you got here. Are you settling in alright?"

"I want to go home," the scared boy squeaked. "When can I see Mother and Varania?"

"Eventually." Leto's shoulders slumped at the answer. He rubbed his nose trying to fight the burning in the back of his throat. Danarius took notice of the disappointment and frowned. "I'll have one of the women bring you up some clothes and then I would like you to join Hadriana and me for supper tonight. How does that sound?"

The elven lad's stomach rumbled hungrily. The prospect of real food that would fill him and satisfy his insatiable hunger were thoughts he never would have dreamed of. He had always just settled for the scraps that his family was thrown. Along with the other small family units that worked for his former master it was a fight for survival and in certain instances favoritism. While his mother had the most children out of the other slaves, she always went the extra mile to please her master and keep her children out of harm's way and that usually meant doing some really disgusting and horrendous acts.

"It sounds nice," Leto chirped.

"Splendid," the magister said with a smirk. "Go ahead and get ready. I will see you shortly."

He started away and right hard smack landed on his bottom. He jumped and turned to the magister in pain. Danarius just leered at him and shooed him away. Leto rubbed the tender flesh and scowled. What had he done to deserve that? His grip loosened on the towel as he reached for the intricately carved handle. Maybe things would be alright as long as he stayed in line and didn't make a sound. Maybe Hadriana was right there was no leaving and that this is what he was destined for.

To his child mind it wasn't that bad of a deal. Dinner that was suited for people with larger tastes and well established housing instead of the dilapidated shack he lived in before. Maybe in the end he did get the better part of the deal but what about his mother? Did she really go through what she did so he could be sent here?

* * *

><p>Leto snatched a roll from off his plate and nibbled at the moist bread. He watched Hadriana stare at him in disgust and drank her glass of wine. His small hands reached for the small cup of water and gulped it down as if it was his last. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and continued devouring the sweetmeats that rested on his plate. He picked up the fork and the knife and stared at them in complete obliviousness as to what to do with them.<p>

He stabbed the meat and ran the blade of the knife through the steak and sawed it into a shredded mess. The tip of his tongue stuck out as he fingered the meat and grumbled to himself. He looked to Danarius, who in this time sat with an amused smirk on his face. He set the silverware down and huffed in frustration.

"This _thing_ is absolutely disgusting," Hadriana grumbled.

She took a final swig of wine and placed the goblet down. The elderly woman, from before, approached with a bottle of wine and filled the glass again. Leto watched her with intrigue and stared at the purple fluid in the glass. He took his own cup and stared at the boring and tasteless liquid in his cup and frowned.

"Do you want some?" Danarius asked. He waved the woman over to him.

The boy nodded in agreement and held out his cup for its own dose of the mysterious drink. The magister pointed to him and the old woman poured a small dose of it into his cup. She took her leave and returned to her station at the far side of the dining room.

Leto swished the deep colored wine in his cup and sniffed. It was fruity and sweet with just the right amount of alcohol to it. He placed the cup to his lips and sipped it. It was bitter and a lie to everything he thought it was going to be. His face contorted in disgust and he spit it back into the cup.

"Disgusting little imp," Hadriana snapped. "Have you no self-control at all! Stupid little beast!" She rose from her chair and approached Danarius. Her demeanor changed when he looked up at her. She knelt at his side and glared at the elf. "When is your new addition going to be coming, Master Danarius?"

The magister set his utensils on the plate and looked down at the blue-eyed woman and sighed. He placed his hand on hers and shook his head.

"She'll be here when she gets here."

"When she does can I have that one?" She cocked her head with deadly intent at the boy.

"Now why would I give up what is rightly mine. You'll have your own slaves soon enough my girl. But you may not have mine."

"Then while you are tending to the other may I-,"

Danarius put his hand up to stop her.

"That's a discussion for another time. We will not be filling his head right now with useless affirmations until he's been fixed. Is that understood?"

Hadriana's head fell and she nodded.

"Yes, Master Danarius."

She rose up and glared at the boy again. She yanked one of the girls to her side and whispered in her ear. Hadriana beamed and waited for her order to be acknowledged. When the elven girl nodded she released her and left.

Leto became nervous and sat up properly. He didn't want to be replaced. He was going to be good. Screw the little whore that came in between him and what he was willing to fight for. The magister that had been kind enough to dine with him, the nice clothes, and the attention- it all belonged to him.

"Are you ready to retire for the night?" Danarius questioned.

"I am Master Danarius," Leto said with a nod.

The magister chuckled and stood from his seat. He held his hand out to the young lad and led him back through the hall and up the same set of stairs as before. Again, Leto looked around at the well-lit rooms that he passed and came to a stop at a set of heavy double doors. He looked up at his master and waited for the door to open. Danarius looked down at him and smiled at him reassuringly.

"Go ahead and open the door, my boy. This is where you are going to be staying."

Leto's heart skipped with anticipation. He became shaky and almost fainted at the prospect of his own room. He didn't know slaves could be treated so well. He unlatched the doors and swung them open. His eyes fell on a room that was fit for the Archon himself. Books. Paintings. A large bed that stood in the center of the room. The child took a step into the room and spun around. He was elated at the enormity of the room. His room.

Danarius closed the door behind him and locked himself inside with his new attachment. Leto stopped and grinned from ear to ear.

"This is to be mine?" the little boy's voice came out shriller than anticipated, but it didn't matter.

The magister took off his robe and laid it across the arm of the chair. His eyes glazed over the small child hungrily and finally he nodded.

"It is- as long as you do as I wish," Danarius answered. He pulled off a golden chain and placed it on the dresser.

"What would you have of me?"

"Take off your clothes and lie on the bed," his master ordered.

It was an odd request. What disrobing had to do with anything made little sense to the young boy. He looked down at the finery and began to peel off the layers of clothing. He felt Danarius' eyes lingering on his body as he pulled his shirt over his head and let his pants fall down to his ankles. He got to his small clothes and stopped. He looked up at Danarius and waited for the next order. The magister pointed at the bed and continued removing his clothing.

Leto hopped up into the bed and felt the soft fabric under his skin. Danarius stood by the fireplace and cast out the glowing light leaving the two of them in the dark. The small boy's heart quickened as he heard the soft footsteps approach the bed and then the weight of the grown man settle down beside him. Rough hands rubbed his young flesh and he recoiled at the advance. His eyes adjusted ever so slightly in the darkened room. He could make out the faded shadow of his master closing in on him and felt his touch running up his thigh.

"Is this what I'm to be then," Leto gasped. He had meant to say it internally, but with everything going by so fast it slipped out before he could catch it.

"You're going to be whatever I want you to be," Danarius whispered in his ear.


	5. Chapter 5

Three weeks in that swaying hold, being treated as cargo made Adria all the more despondent to her situation. She hadn't heard a peep from Carver since they had been stowed away on the ship. The only thing she had learned from any of this was the destination: Minrathous. What did that matter? She knew she was going to be sold off to some person and she would never see her brother again. It would be the end of her world if she lost her one remaining family member. And after she had failed her mother and Bethany before she didn't know if she could tolerate another major failure like that again.

She heard the slave master outside her door. Her hands were unbound and she could see just barely from the light that crept in from under the door. She lay on her stomach and peeked under the door to see what was going on. All she saw were two sets of boots. The men were talking, but in hushed whispers and in that foreign language she couldn't yet understand.

"I'll check on her and see if this is exactly what the magister ordered," the slave master stated.

The girl scrambled to her feet and plopped onto her pile of hay as the door opened. She covered her eyes as the light flooded in from behind the man. The rapid contraction of her pupils gave the man that lingered above her in his funny clothes an odd aura. He snatched her up by her arm and led her out of the room. Her feet picked up splinters from the wood that pained her with every step she took. Finally she heard the sound she'd been longing to hear since they boarded the vessel. Carver was crying. Softly still, but crying.

Her tension calmed at the development and she became instantly more compliant to the disfigured man that dragged her above deck and into the open ocean air. The waves lapped at the sides and the boat swayed gently along the current. The sails billowed in the breezes and the mast's gentle creaks were a tune of impending winds that would thrash them around the vast body of water if they didn't make landfall soon. The sun had barely risen in the east, but the horizon burned far brighter than the dawns that Lothering offered. Clouds seeped of orangish hues that spread far overhead in ribbons and wisps until fading into their more natural pale white.

Idle chatter from the crew came to an abrupt stop as the little girl passed them. They snickered and pointed making lewd comments about her small frame and the words _breaking her in_ were uttered more than once. Her stomach grew in knots at the implication and hurried her pace to keep up with the slave master. Whatever was awaiting her when they made landfall had to be safer than the cat calls and whistling that followed her through a door and down another set of stairs.

"Oy, mage," the slave master called. "Check this one out. I want to know how much coin I can get off of this one."

"Right, right," the blonde man muttered. He waved over his shoulder and only turned around when the door up above slammed shut. "Now that that blighted fool is gone have a seat."

He pulled a chair to the center of the room. Adria looked at the chair and back to the man and reluctantly sat with a thud. She folded her arms and squinted at the man who couldn't be older than sixteen or seventeen. He pulled a small scroll from his pouch and read it over. His eyes glanced at the girl and back to the scroll. He scowled and crumpled it up and tossed it over his shoulder. He knelt in front of her and produced a key to unshackle her.

"What are you doing?" the girl asked as she feverishly rubbed away the pain in her wrists.

"I have to check you out before you make landfall," he answered.

He examined her hands and arms rotating them to make sure there was nothing that was in dire need of healing. He placed her feet on his knee and sighed.

"What's wrong?" she questioned. She looked down at her feet and saw the gashes that had begun to fester. "Oh." She dusted away some of the dirt and saw the oozing puss and enflamed skin. It pained her to look at it let alone lay hands on it. "I can fix it."

The man's eyebrow perked and he chuckled.

"You can fix it?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug.

A soft light emanated from her hands onto the necrotic tissue. Her powers radiated and flickered several times. The tip of her tongue stuck out as she concentrated all her energy into tending her wounds. Her muscles shook and sweat beaded on her brow. Finally her will couldn't take it any longer. She fell against the back of the chair and panted in exhaustion.

"You're a mage," the man blurted out.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I scared you."

Her eyes fell to her hands with shame. She wound the fabric of her thinning night shirt around her fingers and tightened her fist.

"You don't scare me," he said. "I can do it too."

He finished up her remaining work and smiled. He left her feet dangling and stood to look for something. He scoured the shelves and flung open cupboard doors. He pulled items out and threw them on the floor.

"So you are a mage too?"

"Yeah."

He moved to the other side of the room and tossed things off the table. Adria watched him with interest. It was a kindred spirit. She wouldn't have to hide her powers around him.

"Why aren't you in the Circle?"

He turned on her and glared.

"You're a Fereldan right?"

Adria nodded.

"Well I am as well. And the Fereldan Circle is for weak-minded hypocrites that fear what they cannot control."

"So then why are you here? Where are you going?"

"I left. There are better things to do outside the tower than reading tomes and dealing with constantly glaring templars who don't know a damn thing about mages in the first place. They are paranoid that we'll become something that is unstoppable."

She cocked her head as he resumed his search for the elusive item that seemed to evade him.

"So you're working with slavers?"

"Not by choice. I bartered services to get out of Ferelden."

He came back to her side and held a small shirt and skirt. Adria wrinkled her nose at it. She hated the damn things. She was happier in slacks and a loose fitting top. Not some skin tight frock that made her feel awkward.

"I don't want to wear that."

"I understand, but you have to understand that once you get off this ship your life is practically over. You'll never see your family and you will be at the whims of- more than likely- a sadist that will abuse you and eventually kill you."

The little girl bit her lip and took the tattered clothes from the man.

"I don't want to die. What if I'm really good?"

"It'll only prolong the inevitable. But from what I've seen about you in the short time we've spoken, you won't be easily broken. If you must be locked away as some tool, don't let them break you down into some drone." He looked at her and shook his head. "I'll give you time to freshen up. We'll be there soon."

He started up the stairs and listened to her soft scuffling and the remainder of her tattered cloth being ripped away. Adria felt sorry for the man. He was kind if a little preachy, but she felt a semblance of her father in him. It was in the way he spoke to her, the way he watched her. He didn't see this little girl but someone that would be powerful beyond all worldly desires. He didn't want to see the things happen to her, but Maker willing, she'd find a way out of it. She would survive regardless of the stacked odds.

* * *

><p>She approached the deck. The all-encompassing heat hit her like a wall. It was muggy and uncomfortable and to her young Fereldan mind practically unbearable. It was loud and bustling. Many voices of various tongues and aromas of sweet and earthy tones were a near welcoming environment. She watched as the slave master hurried his cargo off the ship and down to the dock where a row of armed men stood. She was thankful that he hadn't noticed her. The way he kicked the men, woman and children was frightful and unsettling.<p>

The young man from before stood beside her and she slipped her small hand into his. He looked down at her and smiled. His head snapped forward as did hers when they saw the slaver approaching them.

"Aye, I'll make some good money off of this one," he sneered.

He snatched her arm and started to drag her away from the mage. Her eyes pleaded to the mage to not let her go. Her shell was cracking and she started to cry. The strong willed child didn't want to go. Didn't want to be some puppet. No killing.

"Please don't leave me," she cried.

"I'll take her," the man said, stepping between them.

"That wasn't part of the deal. You did your job now get off my damn ship," the slaver snapped.

He gathered a wad of spit into his mouth and spat it onto the deck. The man, whose hand was still firmly encapsulating hers, shook his head and looked at the scared girl. Other men had begun to descend on them. Each one had an angry look in their eye. Each dared him to defy the slaver again. He closed his eyes and sadly released her from his grip.

"Very good," the slaver said as he dragged Adria down the gang plank.

She kept looking over her shoulder as tears spilled down her cheeks. She grew hot and angry and more wounded than when she took the clobbering by that other slaver. The mage's expression was sad. He followed them through the alleys to the slave's market. He meekly waved at her and turned a corner leaving her to face her fate by herself. Adria's head fell to her chest. The slaver maintained firm control of her. His hands gripped the chain between her cuffs and dragged her into a small building.

The ambient temperature was just as hot as it was inside as it was in the sweltering outside. Other people were lined up amongst stalls where robed men were bidding on prospective slaves. She was led up a set of stairs and into a room that overlooked the slave market. Three people were already in the room awaiting their arrival: a man, a woman and young boy.

"It's about time," the man snapped.

He glanced at Adria with a slight smirk that made her nervous. She looked away from him and her eyes fell to the black haired boy. He wouldn't look at her. He had focused himself on other things. Like the knot in the floor in front of his feet.

"I'm sorry, Master Danarius," the slaver apologized. "This one took some time to wrangle in, but she is just what you are looking for in a prospective slave. He clutched the girl's face so that the man could see her. It hurt and she breathed heavily as if she was being strangled by him. "Take note of the hair. Full, dark, easy to wrench back when necessary." His fingers clutched her locks and wrenched her head back. Danarius took a step towards her and she trembled. The way he was looking at her was unnatural. Her eyes darted from side to side, but always fell back to the prospective buyer. "And take a look at her eyes. I haven't seen anything quite like them."

Danarius brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and the urge to flee subsided.

"They are quite beautiful, indeed," he concurred. "Hadriana take a look at this one." The woman stood by his side. Her eyes were afire with unbridled hatred.

"She's nice," she uttered flippantly. Her hand fell to her hip. She was bored. That was obvious.

"Quite nice," Danarius agreed. "What's your name, child?"

"Adria."

"That is a beautiful name."

Adria blushed at the compliment and she straightened up. The tension on her hair loosened. The slaver's hand fell away and she regained control of her head. She stared at the boy who looked at her curiously. His lip curled in anger and to the small child his spiteful leers were hitting it left an uncontrollable dread.

Danarius turned his attention to the slaver and he became serious in a heartbeat.

"It is a fine choice," the slaver gloated. "Now as for costs incurred-,"

"Of course. It always comes down to money doesn't it?" He reached into his pouch and exposed a heavy sack. It jingled and Adria's eyes were huge at the mere idea of the load that was going to be put on her. "Unbind the child and Hadriana will take care of you." The slaver did as he was demanded and Danarius held out his hand with a smile. Adria looked at it and then at the owner and slipped her hand into his. "Everything will work out just fine, my dear. You'll be well taken care of. Come Leto. Let's make our new friend more comfortable at the estate."

The boy scowled and reluctantly followed. He caught up to her side, his eyes to the ground as they walked out of the building. The girl kept glancing out of the corner of her eye at him. She was intrigued by him. He looked so different than other boys. Something was off and she couldn't place it in the moment. His eyes meet hers and the corner of his mouth twitched. His expression became softer and Adria sighed.

"Sister!"

The enslaved girl's head whipped from side to side. Then she saw the source of her title. Carver was bound and standing at a stall. A slaver took out a rod and whipped him across the back. The boy shrieked and fell to his knees. Adria pulled away from Danarius in an attempt to get to her wounded brother. His grip tightened and the boy beside her grabbed her arm. She glared at him as he shook his head in disagreement.

"Master Danarius, is that the little one you had been expecting?" a man near the girl's brother asked.

"It is."

"She is beautiful. And how is Leto doing?"

"No worse for wear. He's learning slowly, but it is still a process."

"What do you think about this one?" The man pointed to Carver.

Danarius looked over his new prize's face. She pleaded with him. Her eyes shimmered in the sunlight. Her hand grabbed his arm and all she could do was beg that the torture be stopped for her brother. Danarius ran his fingers through her hair and smiled.

"I know, dearest. We'll see who actually has more power in this relationship." He turned his attention back to the man. "I think he'll make a fine slave. My little one approves of it."

"She might just have you whipped," the man snickered.

"Five minutes in my care and she's already got me under her spell."

"A wise choice then. May she be as useful as lovely."

"I'll see to that, my friend, don't you worry."

Danarius led the girl back to the mansion. The voices drifted away the smells remained and the archaic architecture were something that reminded her of all those utterly horrific tales that her father would tell her. She had always pictured Minrathous as one of those dark and evil places where once you arrived- you were lost. She might have been right. The majority of people she saw were being handed off as some item that would probably never see daylight again as a free man.

They approached a set of guarded gates. Adria was in awe of the beauty of the compound and what little doubt she had held on to about getting away crumbled away. It was the end: the end of her freedom, the end of her dreams and that sinking feeling that she was abnormally calm to the change. She glanced at the boy and meekly smiled. He diverted his eyes from hers and hid his own smile.

_Well at least I won't be alone in all of this. Maker, watch Carver. He's going to need you more than I._


	6. Chapter 6

The abuse was tormenting and violent. Each day got worse and the feelings and insult became more of a belittling experience for the young boy. Whether he was being beaten continuously by his master or having disgusting acts perpetrated on him, Leto, kept his mouth shut and took it. While Danarius was cruel in the way he treated him, Hadriana was worse. When they were alone for any stretch of time she inflicted more lasting wounds on him than he ever thought possible.

Yet he never spoke a word to Danarius. He didn't want to cause trouble and if the magister had given her approval it wouldn't be his place to say anything regardless of what she was doing. The fact was that she could do it and she made it a point to tell him that her testing on him would continue until the day she or he died- whichever came first.

When the sun rose on the final day of his solitude he was elated in a broken-spirited sort of way. No longer would he have to see Danarius for the bastard he was and as long as his eyes still lingered his way for attention of some sort- he would be happy. As for the little girl that was supposed to be arriving today: the news left little for his imagination to take hold. All he knew was she was a stranger and one that would be impeding on the one thing he'd been working towards since he entered the large fortress. Acceptance. And while he got certain things right for his master, others were forced on him. The nightly romps into the master's quarters were something he would be glad to be rid of.

The pain and injuries that each of those nights inflicted cascaded in to a dense and withered sense of insecurity and anguish. Every night was the same, every day fraught with dread when Hadriana appeared. And yet he never cried, never made a sound when Danarius was mutilating his sense of self and worth. When Hadriana would have her go at him he still remained silent. No satisfaction to ebb her personal hatred for him. It would infuriate her more and her anger became his satisfaction. That didn't mean he liked the crack of the crop on his back or the magical experiments she did to his extremities or his torso.

If the nights were at their worst, he would fly away and submerge himself into a more tranquil place. He thought of the incoming guest that would assume his position and he grew content. Someone to share in his misery. This shadowy figure that looked as he did and then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. What if she didn't like him? What if she was just like the others? Regardless of the fact she was to be a slave to Danarius; she would still outrank him in terms of her station. She would be his mistress and would be given opportunities that he would never expect.

While he hated Danarius for the pain he inflicted on him, he had grown a certain affinity for him. Even if it was a naïve justification to let him do what he did. He worked harder to please him and strained not to make a sound the more ostentatious the magister's physical requests demanded. At times he felt his legs would buckle and give out under the weight of the man. If they did, he was beat severely and left to lie in a pool of his sweat, tears and blood. It was the only time he pleaded to his mother softly and understood the depths of trauma she had let befall her for his protection.

"You need to look presentable today, Leto," the old woman stated pulling his night shirt of his head.

She saw the marks that stretched across his body in different stages of healing. The most recent still scabbed on his back and across his lower torso. She shook her head and tried not to point the boy's attention to her distress.

"Why bother?" he muttered as he slipped out of the ragged pants and kicked them across the room.

"It's not that simple to explain. The master just insists that you look your best," she said.

She handed him a less worn pair of trousers and shoved him behind a screen. The boy turned to her with a frown and scowled.

"He wants me to get dressed up for his whore? She's not mine. What do I care?" he grumbled.

He looked down at the burlap and shuddered at the itchy fabric. The old woman looked around the room and squatted down on the opposite sides of the screen. Her joints snapped and popped and she winced as she rubbed the throb from them.

"Don't call her that," she snapped. "You should be thankful."

"Why is that?" he asked as he cinched the cord around his waist.

"Because my daughter would have been in her position and I know how you feel about her. Would you want to see her abused the way Master Danarius does you?"

Leto shook his head and pulled the shirt down over his head. He wriggled in it and pulled up the sleeves that kept falling over his hands.

"I wouldn't want that to happen to her. It wouldn't be right."

He walked around the screen so that the woman could make final adjustments to his attire. She pulled at his britches and bit her lip. She tousled his hair lovingly. She struggled to get up, her knees crackling and locking as he helped her stand.

"Between you and me, I think the both of you are going to be better off. From what I hear it's a shem from across the Waking Sea."

"Shem?"

"Human. Some little girl that Master Danarius had been deciding to add to his collection for a while now." Her eyes grew cold and she brushed the boy's hair out of his face. "We mustn't dally now. You'll be leaving soon with the Master and that witch of a woman. Hopefully the magister has some sense in his head to send that bitch off to some slaver."

Leto snickered and covered the bright grin with his hand. It would have been a sight to see that barbaric and cold-hearted bitch clapped and irons and made someone's pet. Their fun ignited chuckles and aspirations of the magister's apprentice leaving. It was a small running joke that they had to lighten the mood.

The door opened up and the old woman's daughter stepped in with Danarius and Hadriana. They stifled their laughs and even though the urges to burst out into laughter at the mere appearance of _that_ woman, they fought with every inch to regain some restraint on their emotions.

"Well I'm glad to see we are in a better mood this morning, Leto. After last night I was sure you would be still lying on the floor beside my bed. Which would have been… rather unfortunate."

He sneered at the elves making it well aware that he knew what they were discussing. The whole house was abuzz with the new arrival. Even though Danarius and Hadriana barely spoke about it in front of the help- it didn't stop the murmurs from being told from ear to ear. But the way that Danarius had scolded the boy for his failings the previous night made the point more poignant that he was about to be replaced; and by a human no less.

"The boy is ready to go, Master. I was just tidying him up for you," the woman stammered. "Is there anything else you would ask of me?"

"Take your daughter downstairs," he ordered as he placed his hand on the girl's back. "I will speak to you once we get back about this little disruption you have created."

Leto's eyes became wide at the hint in his words. He shot a look to the woman who smiled weakly and nodded acceptingly to her fate. She patted the boy on the shoulder and made her way to the door, grabbing her daughter's hand and never looking back.

"Isn't it enough that this little prig has wasted enough of our time, Master Danarius?"

"Enough, Hadriana. He is not the one at fault here. It's that woman who's causing a lot of the trouble."

"What would you have me do then?"

"She'll be dealt with at dinner this evening. The best way it seems to get these new upstarts in line is a show of force." He held out his hand for the elf to take and smiled. His demeanor flipped like a switch when he dealt with him. Unless he did something wrong and then he was treated as every other slave he owned that crossed his path.

Leto took his hand but couldn't look at the magister or Hadriana. They led him away from the false sanctity of that room and out into the populous. Guards stood at attention as they passed. One looked at the boy and frowned with concern but remained in his position just long enough for them to pass.

* * *

><p>Three men stepped aside as they entered a small room. The market was bustling as slavers were auctioning off their living goods. Leto knew that for most they wouldn't survive two years in this hole. Others would be sent to their deaths immediately. For those people he was thankful for them. They wouldn't have to suffer like the survivors would.<p>

The door slammed shut at the same time Danarius let the boy go. He walked over to a window and watched the throng of people move about their business; some stopping for brief conversations. Other's lingering to purchase a new item for their personal use. The noise was a cacophony of sound. Bells rang; voices echoed off the buildings and pierced the young elf's ears. And through it all was the relaxing scent of the ocean. It cleared away the stink of sweat and blood from the lashings that people would receive for their noncompliance.

It was a messy street where the dirt collected most moisture and rolled down the hill in clods that fell towards the docks.  
>"You know what we're supposed to do once we get the child correct?" Danarius asked Hadriana.<p>

"I do," she responded.

The boy kept staring out the window and told himself stories about the pseudo-freedoms that most of those people had. The ones that meandered around back and forth looking at the stock that had been imported; the passions and hates that they had, a whole host of characters of varying demeanors and situations. It cleared his mind from the impending arrival of the girl.

He already hated her. She was his replacement and a human. While he wasn't subjected to the stereotypical biases or discriminations that the magisters had, something about a human made his skin crawl. But whatever Danarius said was law and if he was to take in a little _human_ girl it was definitely not his right to overstep the bounds and argue with him. He bit his tongue and conceded the fact that maybe he didn't hate her because she was human; maybe it was the fact that the affection he had strived to achieve with his master would mean nothing once she arrived.

Footsteps approached the room and two people walked inside. Leto took his place at Danarius' side and something about the small person standing opposite him made him stop the negative line of thinking. She was… mousy. Danarius inspected his property the same way Leto had. He never approached her, but when she focused her attention on him, he looked away. Her eyes were large, alien, and whatever turmoil she had faced in her journey to get here, she had a spark about her.

His master questioned the girl and as much as he tried to tune her out and focus on the rumble of noise from outside, his ears picked up a word: Adria. He couldn't get past the similarities that the word had for that vindictive sell out, Hadriana. It was an ill omen for him. Everything that he had tried to hide slowly started to eat away at what little self-preserving right he had. She would be exactly like that witch. She had to be and yet as Danarius and the slaver concluded their business and she was free of her shackles, she stared at him.

He kept trying to ignore her, but something called him back to her attention. It was the eyes. They were strange and the way her black hair fell over her shoulders and chunky bangs that covered one of her eyes and it was a fixated attempt to avoid her. This small child who was obviously younger him had even him going in circles.

"Come on, Leto," Danarius said.

He hadn't realized how long he'd been standing there. The adults just stared at him curiously and he thought the whole world had stopped to take notice of him. He walked up to the girl who still watched him. Her hand was firmly held by Danarius but her free hand remained at her side. She stopped abruptly and spun around in a frenzy of circles and ridiculous long black hair hitting the boy in the face. The once docile girl was in a panic at the sight of some other child being whipped for his insubordination.

He knew exactly how he felt. Every time she muttered to herself in her foreign tongue he knew what the heart of that matter was. She tried to break away and in an insane attempt to stop her from hurting herself he held her back. It was for the best that she not do anything. She would learn. She has to.

She turned to Danarius and all the attention that both of them had given them in the past few moments drifted away to complete and utter alienation. The magister was transfixed on the girl with large eyes and strong demeanor. Even though she played the victim, he saw through it and saw that this one was going to be hard to tame. Even for his master.

They moved through the crowds and only he glanced at her several times. Her naïve grin hid a fear that could be felt in his heart. She had no idea what she had gotten into and she would come to regret surviving the voyage here. He pitied her for what she was going to endure. He breathed a sigh of relief that the torture would be ending for him in part and what the old woman had told him seemed to make little sense to him now. How could he feel glad that this child was going to undergo acts no one should have to face? He feared for her and one the time came, if it was permitted, he would tend to her and make the transition easier for her to grasp.

The gates opened to the estate. The same guard from before; stared at him and then at the little girl with a smirk. She was wide-eyed with exuberance at the grandeur of the building. She glanced at him and when he noticed her she smiled innocently. He felt the corners of his mouth perk and even he knew that she had him under her spell. How long that spell would last was anyone's guess, but for now, she was Danarius' as was he and it would have to do for the time being.

Her eyes sparkled and he looked away, as much as he forced himself not to. If Danarius found out he was eyeing the object of his affection then he would be in just as much trouble as the kind old woman. He knew she was doomed, but the thought of stealing a glance was worth just a little bit of pain.


	7. Chapter 7

Adria stood in the master chamber and a cold shiver ran down her back. She inhaled and the faint scent of blood wafted into the air. Her eyes scanned the room in search of the source of the foul odor. Danarius watched her from the door; his eyes were afire for the sweet girl that had seemed to have wrapped him around her finger the moment he laid eyes on her.

Hadriana had left on an errand for her mentor all too willingly. As much as she balked at the request, she submitted with very little resistance. The boy leaned in the doorway and watched her meticulously peek around the bed and fall to her knees. She pulled the bed skirt up and snuck under the bed.

"What are you doing?" Danarius asked.

Leto shook his head at the girl. He shared the same amusement that his master had, but was reluctant to show it.

"Hiding?" her voice murmured in more of a question than an actual response.

"Whatever for?" the magister asked. "Come out from under there."

The elven boy looked at their master and knew that his patience was being tested. He watched a small hand emerge from under the bed and then another. Leto slipped past Danarius and dropped down to see what she was doing. He was met with those large dark eyes and radiant pale skin. Her lip trembled and a small tear drop slid down her face.

"It's okay," he said in a soft voice. He held out his hand for her.

She pressed back further away from him. She looked at him confused and then it dawned on him. She didn't understand a word he had said to her. The language barrier was thick and his words probably frightened her more than the imposing man who was glaring at him.

"Leto!" Danarius growled.

The boy turned to him and rose. He looked at the floor and followed the stern point of the finger out of the room. He glanced back and saw her start to appear at the foot of the bed. She stood up and finally dusted herself off. Lint and dust fell to the floor and her hair had a greyish tint to it from the dirt. She wouldn't come near him. Of all people, she was scared of him. Not Danarius, not Hadriana, not the guards or servants and slaves, but him.

Danarius gave him a final glare and slammed the door behind him. She was alone with him now. Adria was in the vipers' den and all her thoughts drifted away that the choice of resistance was now out of the question. He eyed her, examined the stocky human and for brief moment she thought he was going to beat her to death. He was angry at her. Her feeble attempt at escape only brought doom to her.

She finally looked up at him and waited for the onslaught to take place. She had failed herself and consequentially made life all the more difficult for herself. Maybe the mage was right: she would die quickly. Her young life snuffed out because of her fear that she had failed to contain.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.

She arranged herself in a more proper position. His eyes were piercing hers and the want that she had come to expect managed to find its way out of the man. He knelt down to her level and took her hands in his. His fingers rubbed the tops of her petite hands. He appraised the texture, the softness and slight glow that had seeped from her pores. Her hair matted to her head, leaving chunks of bangs clinging together in front her face. He brushed her cheek with his palm.

He wasn't angry anymore, not with her. She was submitting to him. It was the only way she knew she was going to endure whatever plans he had for her. He didn't have to say anything; she had deduced what he was thinking in the way he looked at her.

"I'm going to take care of you," he answered. "As long as you take care of me, we'll be fine."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not to be discussed right now," he said with a sigh. "How old are you, my child?"

"Six. I'm going to be seven soon," she remarked.

She beamed that she was growing older and rapidly accepted that she might not see eight at all.

"Well, that's exciting isn't it?"

He poked her in the nose playfully and hefted the girl onto the bed. She flopped onto the bed spread and sunk into the mattress.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" she finally questioned.

She shuffled up to the head of the bed and leaned against the board. She pulled at the frayed hemline of her shirt and glanced up at him. She flicked small threads onto the floor. Her nervous tick showed through the more she did it. Her piercing eyes and pouty lips quivered in anticipation of his answer.

He turned from the girl and started for the door. He stopped briefly and forced the door open.

"No. Not now. Not till you're ready."

"Ready for what?"

She crawled to the foot of the bed and watched him step through the threshold.

"When I know for a fact I'm not going to kill you the first time I do anything to you," he answered. "Just stay here. Hadriana will be back soon to see to your needs. I have a matter to attend to before dinner."

"Can I come? Please? I don't want to be left alone. Not again."

Adria slid off the bed and ran up to him. The magister turned to her and smirked at her inquisitiveness. He ran his fingers through her hair and chuckled to himself. His head rolled in the opposite direction as he thought to himself.

"You're all too willing to please your new master, aren't you?"

"I'll do whatever you wish of me," she chirped softly.

His eyes returned to hers and he frowned. The corners of his eyes wrinkled deeply into his face; licking his lips he placed his hand on her head.

"You are learning fast, my dear girl. But it is too soon for such wishful thinking on my part."

Adria sighed heavily and sniffled. She didn't want to be alone. Not ever again. It didn't matter who was there, just somebody. Even if this dirty man had to be her company she was willing to accept it for just a little while. She'd been locked away for so long that she wanted to cling to anyone as long as she knew there was something or someone there.

"Can I play with the little boy?" Her voice perked up when she noticed him standing beside the door.

"No," her master snapped. "You will learn your place as will he. You are mine and will be treated as I designate." He exhaled at the fearful girl and smoothed his robes out. "I will explain everything to you later." He looked towards the front door and back at the trembling girl. "Hadriana will set things up for you. Just listen to her and all shall be fine."

"Is she that mean lady?"

Danarius laughed and nodded.

"Yes, she can be. Just do as she says the first time-as you would me- and everything should be fine."

He shut the door behind him and left her alone. She barely had time to snoop around more before the devil of a woman came in. Adria knew the type all too well. Hadriana had reminded her of a traveler that had passed through Lothering. She had a certain air about her. It was cold, calculating and full of loathing.

The traveler was with a band of men who while on a drunken conquest doted on the female. If they dedicated their attention to someone else, they were usually lashed verbally by her. She was self-absorbed and completely hypocritical to the people under her. She took many a man to bed with her. The only way that she knew of it was the town gossip that made a point to practically yell from the rooftops that she was a whore.

Hadriana dropped boxes onto the floor and huffed at the girl.

"Here's your stuff," she muttered.

Adria opened up the boxes and found all assortments of clothes. Her face contorted at what they were. Dresses. All dresses. No pants or anything.

"Can't I wear something else?" she bleated.

"Spoiled shit!" the woman spat. "Pick something out so we can get you set up for dinner. Danarius is expecting you to be cleaned and ready in an hour."

The girl rummaged through one box and tossed it aside. She didn't want frills if she had to wear the blasted things. She was glad to be out of pinafores and was able to make her own intelligent decision as to what she could wear. It was her father's prerogative to give her the power of choice, which to her mother's chagrin meant he was trying to turn her into a boy by letting her dress like one and play like one, instead of learning to just be a child.

_Father. Mother. Gone. Bethany. Carver. Gone. Alone._

She pulled a purple dress out and showed Hadriana. The woman stared at her, disinterested in what she had been forced to put up with. It wasn't frilly, it was knee length and more mature than she thought she would have had to wear. The white petticoat that went under it made her nauseas- ruffles, lace, and tulle. She was going to be fluffy.

_Ick._

* * *

><p>She scratched at the dress through the appetizer. The itchy fabric burrowed through her stockings and stuck her fragile skin. Her feet swung in the dining chair as she anticipated the first course to their meal. The feast was aromatic and her stomach growled hungrily. It was empty and had longed for a decent dinner. Her hair was neatly piled atop her head. Small spirals framed her face. Yet, her bangs still remained resting just above her eyes. The more she fidgeted, the more they fell into the way the usually did. Off center and over her eye. She liked it that way. And as long as she wasn't in braided pigtails, she was content with the girly flim-flam she had on her crown. Her scalp hurt from how tightly they had fashioned her hair and the servant that had been ordered to do it made sure she felt unwelcome.<p>

As soon as the first course was placed in front of her she inhaled it and gasped. It was delightful. She couldn't wait to taste it. She resisted the urge to devour it as quickly as possible. The boy handed her a napkin and glared at her. Hadriana watched their interaction and snorted disapprovingly at the two of them. Adria scarfed at her food regardless of proper table manners. Her stomach filled to near bursting as the adults discussed what had been going around the city.

She tuned them out and watched the boy work from a distance. He eyed her food and frowned only to resume his work. Every few minutes he'd look at her and back to the dishes on a small buffet. She smiled at him but promptly stopped when one of the girls nudged him in the shoulder. He avoided any more contact with her and solely made eyes at the female. They smirked and flirted, giggling once in a while at each other's jokes.

Adria felt so lonely that she didn't fit in with the others. They spoke their language and left her to sit inquisitively. She was only acknowledged by Danarius who smiled at her when there was a break in the chatter. She was growing restless just sitting there. She shifted continuously in her chair. The boy came up to clear the table. He leaned over her and squinted contemptuously at the docile girl. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously and glanced away from him. He remained, slowly heaping cutlery and china on top of each other. She would have loved for him to leave. He was making her uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw only his eyes. They were expressionless and yet she couldn't help but turn her head to stare him down.

When she refused to look away from him again, he took a step back and hoisted the stacks of dishes into his arms. She was familiar with this game. It was something that she and her brother had played when they were trying to get under each other's skin. In her mind: she won. It was as simple as that. She leaned back in her chair, legs still swinging to and fro and smirked in satisfaction.

Dishes clattered to the floor and it startled her. She jumped from her seat and started towards the noise. Danarius threw his napkin onto the table and grabbed the girl by the arm.

"It's not your place. Take a seat," he ordered.

Adria began to protest but a sudden jerk into her chair stopped her. She folded her arms across her chest and sighed. Hadriana glared at her again and sipped her wine. They continued their conversation over the noise of the slaves cleaning up the broken plates.

"Can I go outside?" the small girl asked.

Danarius turned his attention to her and smirked.

"Outside? It's dark out. Why would you want to do that?" he questioned her with a perked brow.

Adria saw the boy stop and look at her perplexed. She bit her lip nervously and ignored the glares that she was receiving from the servants and Hadriana.

"Walk? With me?"

Hadriana snorted and shook her head in disgust at the odd girl's request.

Danarius shot her a glare and she stiffened instantly.

"Is that what Adria wants?" he asked.

She nodded and hopped out of her chair. She waved at Hadriana and beckoned the magister to follow. She gave the boy a final glance over her shoulder as she led Danarius from the room. Two guards saw their approach and went to attention. Their conversation ceased long enough for the magister and the girl to pass.

The night was sprinkled with stars. The air was still sticky and the heat radiated from the ground. Crickets chirped their courtship tunes and fireflies floated about the green grass. Floral accents flitted in the air and carried its way over the wall and off into the surrounding yards. The grating of metal on metal from passing guards on patrol made the whimsical thoughts that Adria had about a princess in a castle seem all the more real to her.

"This is really pretty," she stated. She held the magister's hand tightly and looked at the statues and flowers. She bent down and sniffed a pale pink flower. It tickled her nose and she rubbed her face. "I like your home."

Danarius unsheathed a small dagger and plucked it from the bush. He handed it to her letting his fingers grace hers gently. She inhaled it again and continued walking.

"I'm glad to hear that," Danarius said. He led her around to the far end of the path and sat on a bench. His forehead was drenched with sweat. He wiped it away and shook it loose of his hand. It sloshed to the ground in droplets. His greying hair was slicked back and the cleanly trimmed beard reminded her of her father's when he went days without shaving. "Do you like it here?"

The little girl nodded slowly. He took he hands and held them as she leaned back on her heels and bent down to her knees. Her black slippers pointed to the sky as she stretched and shook the tension from her muscles away. She straightened up and plopped onto the bench next to the man. She looked up at the night sky that had spread on to infinity.

"I'm scared," she admitted. She looked down at the beautiful dress and white stockings. Her hands shuffled back and forth along her legs as a biting chill coursed through the garden.

"Whatever for?" he asked. "You look more tired than anything."

She pointed to the sky in a spark of curiosity and smiled. She avoided his question intentionally. She didn't want to admit her reasoning to him let alone herself. All those angry people inside made a point to tell her what she was going to be to the man. She argued with them as they called her names_. "Len'alas lath'din_." They spoke in their foreign tongues to each other. She knew they were talking about her. Even the boy, when he past her on the way to dinner uttered words of discontent in her direction. "_Furandi scortum_."

The more she listened to their biting words and snide insults the more she realized that they had been waiting to sink their venom into her long before she arrived. She had not a friend in the world. All she had was the magister to protect her from their glares and remarks. Even then she didn't care what they or Hadriana had to say. Danarius made a point to all of them when he overheard them that he would fix them without remorse if they continued, starting with their families.

"I am tired," she admitted.

"You look really beautiful this evening. Hadriana's completely jealous," he joked.

"Good for her," the girl grumbled with a frown. She yawned and leaned into the man's arm.

He pulled her close and let her head fall forward. She hadn't realized how tired she was. Her hand tightened around the stem and placed the bloom on her lap. Her hand fell into his lap and she felt him flinch when she touched him.

_Getting him on my side will be easier than I thought…_

…_who's really in control here? Because it sure isn't him._


	8. Chapter 8

He placed his ear to the door and listened to the muffled whispers between his master and the little girl. It was soft, kind and completely contradictory to what he had listened to the magister say in recent weeks. His words were different: loving and compassionate. He hadn't had a kind word from Danarius for weeks. All he received were admonishments and orders for incorrect behavior.

Yet, this girl, this stranger, managed to do the one thing that he had dreaded since her first heard she would be arriving. Granted, if he were in the master's position he would have lavished the girl too. She was far from intimidating and even in these intimidating situations she showed little to know emotion about it. He could tell she was frightened. She had no idea what she had gotten into and for that he had sympathy for her. Whether or not she was the enemy when it came to the personal precedence that he'd endured- and she would as well- it was only a matter of time before he had to make a true decision about her.

The cylinder in the knob clicked and he bolted from the door. He didn't want to give Danarius another excuse to whip him for eavesdropping on their conversation. Even though he had no idea what they were speaking of. He tried to make it to the stairs but skidded to a halt when the girl had pointed him out. Danarius shot him a look and his heart stopped. Leto looked at the girl with a scowl. His eyes narrowed on the child and he drew his conclusions about her without a second thought: she was just like the others and would be most likely the one to cause him the most trouble and misery.

He burned with a rage for her and when Danarius finally scolded her for questioning him; he was elated and truly filled with a satisfaction that he hadn't felt in a long time. She glanced at him with shimmering eyes and a torrent of indecision flooded him. The smug look drifted away and what he saw was a lonely child that just wanted someone to relate to. He understood the feeling. He had been surrounded by adults since his own arrival and it was an unsettling feeling that left him out of place. Now it was made worse by the conversations that both Hadriana and Danarius had with the girl. If brief they still made him feel left in the cold with his lack of understanding. That was another mark against her.

"What are you doing here?" Danarius growled. The magister looked at the boy whose attention was still drawn to the shut door and the fragile girl on the other side. Leto ignored him and it fueled a fire that the elven boy should have anticipated. Danarius shoved him into the banister on the landing and slapped him hard across the face. The slap stung and his eyes burned with unshed tears. "Whatever you got in your mind, boy- get rid of it. She's not for your admiration and drilling a hole through the door with your stairs will only get you in more trouble than she is possibly worth." Danarius took the boy down the stairs and led him into the kitchen. He flung the child at the scullery maid and scowled. The dalish slave dropped a pot on the ground to catch the falling child, scattering ingredients across the floor. "You'll get one final warning about her and that is all: if you value your life; you'll stay away from her."

Leto looked up at the magister and with a costive nod, brought his hand to his burning cheek. The magister exited the sweltering cookery, leaving the boy in the arms of the girl. He muttered incoherently to himself and began to help gathering up the spilled peripherals. He caught a glimpse of the lass's face. The look of concern and worry ran through it along with a set of smeared grease and soot streaks. She was filthy. Her greasy hair was pulled back and sloppy clumps fell over her shoulder.

"What did you do to anger him this time?" she muttered.

She bent down and collected the remaining items from off the wooden floor before he could reach him. They both shot for an apple at the same time, only Leto had grabbed it with her hand landing on top of his. They both froze. Neither one was willing to move first. The boy simpered at the game and decided that they had both played long enough. He slid his hand out from under hers and presented the apple to her.

Both of them stared at it. They were famished with what little food they had received. The lad's stomach growled angrily, urging him to take a bite of the succulent fruit. It glowed like magic. This forbidden fruit was just as taunting as the one that remained upstairs, locked away in a room.

"What don't I do to anger him?" Leto smirked. He sat and propped his knees up, leaning onto his hands to stare at the ceiling. "How's your mother? I hope I didn't get her in to too much trouble."

He caught her out of the corner of his eye shooting him a dirty look. He sat up and hugged his knees. She didn't have to answer. He already knew. It was the same expression she had when one of the other slaves was to be executed. Complete and utter helplessness surged through him and he shook with ire.

"You know Master Danarius wastes nothing," the girl stated softly. She stood up and dusted off her knees and apron before setting the raw food onto the table. She helped her friend up and began to dust away the fine particulate from his shabby tunic. "My only fear is that you will be next. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

"Nothing is going to happen to me," he insisted with a playful grin.

He pushed her hands away and finished cleaning himself off.

"It might with that little shem hanging around," she grumbled. "If he sent you here with a warning about her you know that's going to be the final straw about her. Next place is the dungeon where you will be strapped to a table and slit from ear to ear to bleed like a pig."

"You worry too much. She doesn't have that much power over him," he replied with a smirk.

"You'd be surprised," Hadriana's voice growled from behind them.

The two elves jumped from the surprising sound in their oppressor's voice. Leto spun around and caught Hadriana standing in the door, her hands placed on her hips in an irritated fashion. She walked past the boy, knocking him into the table and struck the girl across the face.

"Mistress?" the girl sulked.

"You are supposed to be working." She eyed the both of them with hatred burning in her eyes. "Both of you."

"What would you have us do then?" Leto asked.

"Tell the washer women to prepare a bath for that little heathen girl and fix her properly. She's waiting outside with that abhorrent garb Danarius wants her in," she ordered. The girl curtsied and left up a flight of stairs to the slave's quarters. "As for you, head to the dining area and make the place presentable." The boy made his way past the woman only to be stopped by her pulling him back to face her. "If I was you: I'd stay clear of that. We wouldn't want Danarius finding out about your comingling with that trashy little whelp, now would we?" The boy nodded his head. "With the girl here, it's bad enough I have to deal with you, but he would be ever so heartbroken to have to execute you for dallying with her on his time."

"I understand, Mistress," he said.

"If you truly know what's good for you, I'd keep my distance from that child upstairs. In Danarius' eyes you are so far beneath her you aren't even worthy to be the dirt she treads on. Consider how he looks at her and think about all the things you will have lost because you failed him," she prodded with malice. "Make yourself bloody useful and maybe you will save yourselves the inevitable torture that you both face if you displease him. She's just an empty vessel once he has his way with her and if she's more conforming to his standards, then you will be out of the picture with nary another glance."

Leto's heart seized at the loathsome thought. This bitch of a woman was attempting to feed into his obvious paranoia and she was succeeding. Each word shot through his ears like an arrow released from a compound bow. He didn't know what to say or if there was anything that he could. He resisted opening his mouth to argue with her because she knew who and what she was. His only comfort was in the fact that his acquaintance was the only one who gave a damn about his well-being beyond Danarius' deviant perversions.

* * *

><p>He walked past the door on the way to the dining hall. The sounds of laughter carried on the air and it stalled him. He stuck his head in and saw two of the slaves scrubbing the girl in the tub. The essence of cinnabar oil enveloped the entire room. It was overpowering from where he was staring and even though he tried desperately to heed both Hadriana's and Danarius' threats, he couldn't stop himself from staring at her. Maybe it was the insurgence of chemicals that were released into the air from the musky bath oil that she was coated in.<p>

The women looked like they were having a grand time speaking ill words about her right in front of her. She, on the other hand, said nothing. She wasn't amused by it and her hurtful countenance was all the more heart breaking when they submerged her under the water to rinse her clean. She splashed and flailed, sending crests of water over the side of the bath's walls. Her small feet kicked into the air. They whooped up a storm at her panicked state. Her hand fell limp over the side of the tub and his heart raced. He wanted to do something to stop them, but with utterances of words of warning seeping in from his memory, he remained watch over her. He was sure they would pull her out in time before she drowned.

"What in damnation is going on here?" Danarius bellowed.

He forced Leto out of the way, giving him a stern look of warning before turning his full attention to the women. The silence created by his presence was deafening. The soft sounds of coughing and gagging perked up the boy. The magister ripped the soft and warm towel out of her bather's hands and wrapped the girl up. The tremors she produced were visible from where he stood. She clung to the towel. Her small fingers peeked out and when she looked at him, the tint of blue from her lips and paleness took him back.

"We were just finishing her up," the woman stated softly.

"Bullshit," Danarius snapped. He seethed at them. His breathing was ragged and forced. His jaw clenched and relaxed in a rhythm that simulated chewing. Their master was holding back words. A first, since Leto had been there. The little girl looked up at him, large eyes that faded away from panic and brightened at his rescue. He faintly smiled at her and patted her on the back. "Finish getting her ready. If I hear one more thing coming out of this room, I swear I'll take it out on everyone you've ever cared about before I even begin with you."

The boy pressed himself against the wall and let the magister pass. He watched him head downstairs. The soft sounds of footsteps from him approached the door. His blood ran cold when the girl stepped out onto the landing.

"Thieving whore," he muttered to her. His eyes diverted from hers. He made the half-hearted effort to not look back at her.

It was for the best for both of them. Hadriana was right, as was Danarius, the best way to keep them safe was to stay away from her and pretend she didn't exist. Even if it meant hurting her it was kinder than leading her down a path that was deadly for them.

* * *

><p>She entered the dining room, walking right past him without a single glance. She still carried the scent of her bath on her. The swish of her dress drew his attention to the frivolous design of cloth and the juvenile white stockings she wore. Danarius stood when she approached and applauded her for her appearance. He glared at the little girl scornfully. She pulled her chair to the table and glanced in his direction.<p>

"You ready to serve these stupid people?" the scullery prodded.

"Don't have much choice. Let's just get this over with," he said with a sigh.

They both made their ways to the table and doled out the meal. The child watched him as he handed her a napkin. His eyebrow twitched angrily at her. It should have been him sitting in that chair; taking pleasure in the finer things. Not this scrawny little mouse that had practically forced him out the second she came into the picture.

The night dragged on. The magister and Hadriana conversed about various political nonsenses that made little difference to him. He glanced at the girl on the far side of the table and frowned. She was just as lost as he was during those conversations that Danarius had with her.

_Serves her right_.

Course after course was removed from the table, but the final one left him with a sickening feeling. He could feel that girl; that disgusting little brat surveying him. He couldn't help but turn and look at her. She beamed when he finally acknowledged her.

"Stop," the elven lass warned. "She's just trying to get you in trouble."

He glanced at the little human briefly and nodded in agreement.

"It isn't fair," he muttered to himself.

"Tell me about it," the girl replied with a snort. "Hey, want to hear something funny?"

"Sure."

"What did the magister to say to his slave in the kitchen?"

Leto shrugged and piled the remaining cutlery together.

"What?"

"Nothing. The slave stabbed him," she chortled.

It wasn't that funny, but he humored her nonetheless.

"Come on. I think they are finished with their food. Maybe they saved something for us." Leto stated.

He went to the little girl first and noticed the roll on her plate uneaten. He stared at it and then at her. She feigned a smile and turned away from him. She was indeed scared of him as much as she tried to fake her bravery.

_What's wrong?_

He couldn't stop leering at her. Everything he did, he did without looking. He wanted her to look at him again. Wanted to know what she had hidden behind those eyes. Those very strange eyes. He got his wish when she peeked up at him. They locked on each other; each examining the other as if they were peering into their soul. Then he found it: sadness. She couldn't hide it. He knew nothing of the means of her arrival, but there was a deep ingrained sadness to them. The story she told without the utterance of a word was far more wracking than anything he would have cared to witness. It must have been traumatic for her and her resistance to this place was slowly starting to seep in.

He couldn't follow Danarius' or Hadriana's order. She was going to be the death of him.

He sped away, dirty china and silverware in hand. He kept glancing over his shoulder at her. This enigmatic girl with the untold story and barely a life to lead had him instantly enraptured. He argued with himself about it. Surely this innocent ruse was nothing but that, but the presentation was nothing like he'd ever seen. He'd seen new slaves, each with enough traumas to tell where they had come from, but she had this look of terrible unforeseen things that a child shouldn't have to see. If she survived that, then maybe, just maybe, she'd be alright.

He hadn't seen the elven girl coming in his direction and they collided. Plates shattered and knives fell to the wood flooring with their points penetrating the lacquer.

"Damn it," he muttered.

"By the Creators! Why are you still paying attention to that shem?" she hissed at him.

"I wasn't," he stammered.

"Yeah, and I'm the Archon," she snapped with a roll of her eyes.

"Don't you feel a little bit sorry for her?" he asked.

"Not one bit. She shouldn't even be here in the first place."

"That's kinda cold. None of us should be here."

"She's going to make us miserable. Just look at the way she sits there with a satisfied look on her face."

The elf pointed at Danarius and the girl and Leto's heart jumped into his throat. She was walking away with Danarius in tow and she _did_ have a satisfied face. They both were pleased with each other and where did that leave him? It didn't matter in the slightest at this point whatever he had going for him; it was lost.

* * *

><p>"Leto!" Danarius called to him from the back entrance.<p>

The boy hurried to his side and saw the magister carrying the small, limp body of the girl. Her feet dangled over his arm. The sway of her legs knocked her slipper to the floor. The boy picked it up and followed the master up the stairs. His heart raced as he watched the man laid the girl on the bed. She rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball. He smirked and prodded the girl in her sleep that she couldn't possibly get any tinier than that. His hands wrung the soft leather slipper and waited for his name to be said again. He wanted to approach her to get a better look, but opted not to just for the sake of breathing.

Danarius groaned as he took his boots off and placed them beside the bed.

"Is there anything else you need?" Leto finally asked.

"No," Danarius said with a sigh. The boy bowed and headed for the door, still holding the shoe tightly in his hands. "What do you think of Adria?"

He stopped and went to his master's side. His eyes kept falling on the lass. He didn't know how to answer the question. It wasn't that easy for him to put the words together.

"Different."

"That she is," the magister said with a chuckle. "The girl's got me wore out already and she hasn't really done anything yet."

"She's small."

"That's pretty obvious, but she's invaluable to me." He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. Leto looked at it and frowned. "After today, she's going to need someone to look after when I'm too busy to attend to her myself." He paused and tousled the elf's hair playfully. "You two are about the same age. Do you want to do it?"

He shot a look at the man with confusion.

"She doesn't even understand me."

"She'll learn. She's going to be well taken care of and maybe she'll teach you a thing or two."

"What could she possibly have to offer me?"

"A chance to get in my good graces."

"Are you sure I can do it?"

"I'm sure."

"Then I'll do it," the elf muttered.

"Good. Now that that's settled there's something to keep in mind. She is mine. You are not to touch her or stare at her overlong. She belongs to me and she will be used as I see fit."

"I understand, Master."

"Then find a spot on the foot of the bed." The magister yawned and lay down beside Adria, pulling her close to him.

Leto couldn't sleep. He just kept watching the shallow rise and fall of Adria's chest. It would be many a night that he stood vigil over her and pondered the certain implications of being her personal servant more or less. He dug his hand into his pocket and felt the roll still slightly warm from the dinner service.

_Maybe she wasn't so bad and the morsel of food she left me was more important for her to give than anything. A peace offering when there was no war to be had. _


	9. Chapter 9

Years had passed for the child. She had matured and fell into her role quite easily. While the physical acts still relied on Leto, she understood what she was to be when the time came. It was nearly unheard of that the magister would have waited so long to have her fully fulfill her obligation, but she was well aware that the time would draw to a close and that would be it.

For her sake, she was glad that her companion wouldn't have to undergo the torment anymore. Many a night she was forced from the room while Danarius had his way with the boy. She listened to it and couldn't escape it no matter where she went. Some nights were more violent than others. The sound reverberated off the walls and down the stairs where she usually remained until beckoned to join her master, often catching the aftermath when it was still at its worst.

She still practiced her magic in secret and had become quite talented. She would sneak away to her hiding spot, usually down in the dungeons and practice her craft. During the daylight hours, she was tutored and learned many of the ways of the Imperium, the Qunari and the social graces that she would be required to entertain when she was with Danarius. Many of the magisters envied their colleague and had propositioned him for a night with his fair lass.

All requests would be rejected, of course, but that still didn't stop the leering of the guards and male slaves that came in contact with her. She befriended one of them and talked to him when he was on duty- asking questions of his family and life outside the walls that confined her from the outside world.

She had seen Carver maybe twice in six years and every time she had, he looked well if a little more gaunt from his previous visit. His role was so indecipherable she didn't know if he was a true slave, servant. One minute he'd be ordered to do something, the next asked kindly. They never spoke to each other and it was something she would have very much liked to have done.

"Happy birthday," Leto muttered.

He sat at her feet, twisting a blade of grass between his fingers.

Adria looked from her book and down at the elf. Her eyebrow crooked at the statement.

"Thank you."

"So, you're-?"

"Thirteen."

She thumbed the corner of the page nervously and set the tome down beside her. She lifted the hem of her dress and kicked her shoes off. The grass was cool, moist and tickled her splayed toes. Leto blew the blade of grass from his palm and dusted his hands clean.

"So do you think tonight is-?" he asked.

"I don't want to think about it. Hadriana has been slightly more relaxed in the past couple of days, so I can only assume that: yeah, this is probably it," the girl murmured. She slid off the bench and sat down beside the boy. He glanced at her and turned his attention to her fumbling hands in her lap. The heavy velvet crumpled as she pinched the fabric and shook her head. "I know I shouldn't bring this up, but how do you deal with it?"

He straightened up and glared at her. His eyes kept tracing her face and down to her bodice and back up again.

"It's kind of hard to say. It's been going on for years," he answered. He looked away from her, his eyes filled with shame.

"So if I do this, then he won't do it to you anymore?" She leaned closer to him and dipped her head down to look at him. He kept turning further and further away to avoid eye contact. His attention turned to the guards that marched along the path in front of them. The men looked at the girl and whispered to themselves. They chuckled and continued on. She ignored it, her focus was him. She didn't care who noticed their interaction. "Leto, tell me."

The boy shrugged and blinked at her.

"I don't know, Adria. He'll get what he wants from who he wants; when he wants."

"I know that."

"Then why do you even ask?" he snapped.

"Because if I have to do this, I'm doing it for you not for him," she whispered.

He snapped around and shuddered. His breath was ragged and she saw the muscles twitch through his clothes. He licked his lips, eyes wide and all she wanted was for him to touch her. He swallowed hard and huffed as he thought about what she was telling him.

"You don't belong to me. You are Danarius' and as such you concede to him," he stated. He rose from the soft grass, leaving his imprint. Small blades sprung to life in the beating of the sun and shimmied in the weak breeze.

He walked away from her in the direction of the estate. Adria ran after him and spun him around.

"I won't concede everything. There are things that he'll never reach and those are the things I will give freely to whomever I want. I don't want to have to sit up till all hours of the night and listen to him abusing you when I can't do anything about it." Two more guards started towards them and she released him from her grasp. She bit her lip and trembled at what she was about to say to him. "I might belong to him, but you are the closest thing I've had to a friend since I've been here. I wouldn't want you to endure the unnecessary if I am more applicable for the position." Leto went to protest her words. She shook her head and placed her fingers to his lips. "If I'm to whore myself to him, then so be it. It was in fact why I was brought here in the first place. I've accepted that. I never expected to find anything else once I got here. But I did and even though I know I'm nothing but a child and have no real aspirations as to where my path will lead me in the future. I know for certain that the left road doesn't meet with the right."

"You're rambling," the elf smirked from behind her finger.

"Shut up," she grumbled. "Just know that-." She became flustered and when she looked at him for the final time she didn't have to say anything. She thought he knew all the words she wanted to say, but could never lose control over the inevitable. She would never belong to him. With Danarius going back and forth from Minrathous and Seheron, there was plenty of time to deal with the complications that had come up in her and Leto's relationship.

She cared for him and even when they argued, she was the one to lose control of her emotions and paralleled the one course she didn't want to be on. The more she matured the more she realized that after everything she was still human, still alive and breathing, still wanting someone to love her for whom she was. She knew that Danarius loved her deeply and that was why he was biding his time. The strolling walks in the garden during the evening hours after the evening's meal became common place and they still lived out their ritual of talking about the day and how much he'd grown to care for her.

"_You have never made me feel this way about any of my slaves."_

"Leto, we have to get ready for dinner," the elf girl called.

"Alright. I'll be right there," he told her. "I'm sorry, Adria. I-I-I have to go."

"Sure," she breathed. Leto smiled and began to leave. "Save you some cake?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he said over his shoulder.

She always left him something from her dinner when no one was looking. Often while Danarius was amidst his pleasures with Leto she would sneak down to the slave quarters and hide stuff under his pillow. She had been caught once by Hadriana and harshly reprimanded for her altruistic demonstrations. The adolescent shrugged with every biting word.

* * *

><p>"<em>So? I'm not some stuck up bitch who tries too hard to get ahead," she snapped. "So who's really the whore in this house?"<em>

"_How dare you!" the woman screamed. She raised her hand to strike her and stopped when Adria smirked. The impudent dog lord had finally gotten under her skin. "If Danarius wasn't here, I'd-."_

"_Do nothing. It figures the thing stopping you from exacting what little vengeance you want is Danarius: the one person you want to suck up to." She rolled her eyes and a cocky smile traversed her face. "Funny how that works."_

"_Danarius will see through your stupid little ploy eventually, girl," Hadriana hissed._

"_Are you sure about that?" Adria muttered. She strolled past the woman and opened the door. "Another week or so and I'll be doing what I'm supposed to do. It's just another nail in your supposed coffin. I can do no wrong in his eyes and you should be wise to heed my words, you uptight and useless wench: If anything, _anything_ at all is to happen to Leto because of this, I'll make sure that every day you are here is fraught with misery. It wouldn't take much given that you are so tightly wound that you might snap and the both of us know how I am- I'd enjoy breaking you for sheer amusement."_

* * *

><p>"Dinner smells lovely, Master," Adria purred.<p>

She unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap. The luxurious meal came at little expense to the magister. He smiled as she stuck her fork into the scrumptious items and brought the tiny bites to her mouth. She savored it, letting each taste bud experience it and only swallowed once it had lost its flavor.

"I'm glad you like it, dear. You're going to need your strength for later," Danarius stated.

The fork stopped halfway through a chunk of meat. Ambivalence coursed through the girl. She was right- tonight was the night. She cleared her throat and faked a warm smile. All the while she felt herself being watched. She tried to ignore it and knew that the elf had overheard their master's words.

"Um, thank you, my lord," she muttered meekly.

Her stomach caught in her throat and her appetite subsided. Her head throbbed and subconsciously she was panicking the only way she could. No amount of preparation could prepare her for what she was about to face. She was in knots over it and as much as she tried to muster the courage to continue eating she couldn't. She took a sip of wine to calm her nerves and found that the alcohol was far to relaxing than what she wanted.

"Cake?" Leto asked from beside her.

"I think I'm alright for the moment," she said with a wave of her hand. She peered at the elf and saw the same dread she had. She shuddered and placed her napkin on the table in front of her. "Master?"

The magister couldn't help but smile at her.

"What is it?"

"Can we walk first?"

Danarius chuckled and shook his head.

"No, it's to be along night ahead. If you are so anxious to start now we could head-"

"That's fine. I just need a minute. If that's alright with you?"

The magister frowned and sighed. He placed his hand on hers and patted it gently. Adria couldn't stop examining it. The affection and tenderness and she knew deep down that the frantic case of butterflies would subside eventually. Until then she was going to be a wreck with the unenviable case of nausea.

"Do what you must, Adria. I will be waiting upstairs. I expect to see you shortly."

"As you wish, Master," she droned.

Danarius left the table. All that remained were her, Leto, and the elven slave. She vibrated in her chair and whimpered. Leto put his hand on her back and rubbed it gently. She admired him. Every stroke he made with his hand to console her was one step that led them closer to death if Danarius caught them. She knew the rules all too well. As did he, but that didn't stop it when it felt necessary.

She jumped from her chair and embraced him. Her face buried into his chest as she sobbed. His fingers ran through her hair and the more she fought to stay with him and not face it she was ashamed. Ashamed of what was to come and that afterwards even her friend would look at her differently. The pact would be sealed and the lines would be drawn for them. They would forever be unattainable to each other and the death of what could have been seemed all but inevitable.

The once brave girl had let loose the pent up fears and insecurity in a string of curses and harsh words that muffled into his chest.

"Adria?" his voice cracked.

She focused on him and the soft heartbeat that thudded in him. She exhaled and wiped her eyes dry.

"I know. I know," she murmured softly with a nod.

"I'll be there for you afterwards. I'm not going to let you slip away after this. You have me, regardless. I promise."

"I've-," she breathed.

"Shhh," he uttered softly. "You mustn't keep him waiting."

He disengaged from her and led her to the stairs. Slow steps that seemed like an eternity to reach the mezzanine only drove the point deeper into her. She gave him one last glance and headed down the hallway. She felt the wood along the door, but couldn't bring herself to open it. She held her breath and decided that stalling wasn't going to end the situation. She had to go through with it. She thought of Leto and what she was trying to do for him and she relaxed. He wouldn't have to undergo the pain anymore. The late night doctors coming to fix him would cease and it would be her that helped him be free of it.

She unlatched the door and slid into the room. It was cold and dim, but the shadow of her master walked along the walls and drew closer. She felt his hands on her shoulders and his breathing at her ear.

"Are you ready now, my dear?" he hissed.

She acquiesced to his moving her and the bolting of the door shutting behind her. Her legs were stiff and her feet didn't respond well to her urgings.

"I am, Master," she whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a humid day in the city. Being amongst the topiaries and shrubbery, Leto found himself at his usual place beside his charge. The hints of tea and incense were carried gingerly on the ocean zephyr. It was far subtler than the lawn's lushness and pollen that made his skin itch. Blades stuck through his britches and felt like barbs that refused to bend to his weight. He defiled them. Breaking off individual pieces of green and crushing them, letting the dampness of the chlorophyll spread across the tips of his long fingers.

He listened to the rumblings of guardsmen and servants alike as they passed. They spoke in elevated whispers and anticipated an incoming gesture from the girl. Adria never acknowledged them. Her eyes were wholly devoted to the book laid in her lap. The rustle of pages turning in rapid succession was poignant in the fact that she had grown bored of the tome and its teachings and yet she remained scanning the pages without reading anything.

She had grown into a fragile young woman and all he wanted was to break up the monotony of the day for her. The utterance of celebratory conversation did little to turn the tide of unemotional acceptance. He'd watched her grow from this mousy little adolescent into a slender and precocious young adult. They spoke little and while he remained in her company, he could sense the tumultuous emotions that had started to stir within her. The closer the day of her birth approached, the more withdrawn she became. She smiled less and what words were exchanged between them was brusque and worrisome.

He knew that the day was fast approaching and that even for Danarius it was a battle for control not to deflower the young girl the first chance he got. Leto had endured it in her stead and had only wished that it never truly had to happen, but the inevitability was very real and for him the anticipation of her transformation from simple, cloistered lass to full mistress of his master was one that he couldn't fathom.

She was young, naïve and still very much innocent. Even with her snarky and intellectual personality, he saw the one thing that many others didn't: she was still a scared girl. The same one that had entered the fold against her will and had no idea how things worked. Yet she remained, taking up the slack of many others. She was defensive, biting and could be completely and utterly ruthless when matters demanded, but that mechanism kept her going. She was putting on a show for them and he knew that she didn't revel in participating in whatever acts Danarius had imposed upon her.

She sat beside him in the grass and fumbled with the fine lacing of her gown. She was nervous and fretful of the coming evening. The shifting breeze caught her scent and wove it into the air in a calming and enticing aroma of dragon's blood and her natural essences.

"I hate to ask but..."

Nothing good ever came from those words. He cringed and awaited the fated conclusion of her thought. They never spoke about what happened to him. It was a topic both wished not to tread for obvious reasons. The thought of their master defiling him most nights was one he hoped to forget after each session. He snapped at her, defensively for drudging up those disgusting thoughts and avoided her every attempt to get an answer from him. He couldn't meet her eye, for all the woeful admissions he would usually make, this one particular issue made him unaccepting and cold.

She neared him, getting lower than he. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. She bit her lip and those eyes that haunted his dreams stared up at him questioningly. She was taunting him. She had that way about her. She didn't have to say anything, the expression was right there looking him in the face; imploring some soothing word to calm her nerves. She was fearless when necessary, but it completely contradicted the sadness and utter hopelessness that had scarred her soul. She was a mystery to him. She never spoke about her past and for all intents and purposes wrote it off as it happening to another person in another life.

"I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it for you," she stated.

She had to be kidding. He was the only one willing to undertake the prospect of abuse from Danarius for the sake of another. He was confused and when it finally sunk in what she was intending to do, he grew furious. She had no right to martyr her body and soul to that bastard. While he wasn't content with the constant bodily harm that was inflicted on him, he surely didn't want her to have to undergo it for the sheer consideration of his well-being, but here she kneeled and honestly made her claim on the rite that would be forced upon her.

She had bared witness to the causatum that followed Danarius' indulgences. The smell of sweat and blood, the wounds inflicted and to remain calm enough to render slight assistance when the healer would come to patch him back together.

She stayed by his side while their master cleansed himself of the elf's filth, leaving them alone with the mage. It was the first time that he had truly noticed that she was showing affection towards him. The healer had completed his task and bowed his way out to gain his compensation for services and they were finally alone. Adria ran her fingers through his hair as he lay on the bed beside her. He never looked at her. The shame was too great for him to acknowledge and to have her see the torment it placed on him. He never made a sound and the implications that she was by his side him regardless of what happened was a release he didn't think he'd find.

He had to get away from her. The more she probed, the more the memories contorted into thoughts of duplicating events happening with her in his position. The tears that she would shed, the pain, the torture and the delight that Danarius would extrude from watching her slow demise as he made her fulfill her task. And those eyes- the spark would be gone from them forever, leaving a husk of a girl to pick up the pieces. He would have to look into them on a daily basis and know that she had died countless nights in the arms of that man.

He grew restless in his skin and the closer she got to him, the further he had to flee. He couldn't let her do it to him and to herself. If he knew a way to stop it, he would. The fates drew closer around them and with the final images of Danarius on her in ways that he couldn't conceive, he bolted. He had to clear his head, but the images were burned into his brain; the remains were created by the self-inflicted wound of a cruel imagination.

_I'm supposed to protect her. But I can't protect her from him._

Adria chased him down. She was never more than a few feet away from him. They were attached and what happened to one, the other felt. It was a sickening notion, but when she spun him around, he knew that deep down, she had settled on someone that had provided her the companionship that she had craved. She muttered her peace and in his mind he saw that six year old looking up at him. She hadn't changed all that much. Even though they stood nearly eye to eye with each other, she was stronger than he perceived. The firm grasp of her hand on his arm, that spoke harkened the natural trepidation of her words in uncharacteristically saddening ways.

They were so close to each other that he fought the powers that be to not reach up and touch her. She had always led the way in that department and while her caresses were mutually beneficial to the pair, he never initiated the interaction. He remembered the first time she touched him. The awkwardness that ensued in a tumultuous and nerve-wracking exhibition of caring. Every day afterward, he wanted it and now she stood in front of him trying to muddle through the hard words without overtly coming clean with him.

* * *

><p><em>The storm rained down and it never seemed to end. Lightning crackled across the sky in streaks of hot white tendrils. Thunder roared from the heavens above and shook the ground with each concussive strike. The rain was ice cold and not made any better by the typhoon-like winds. It felt like needles that tore at his skin. He was bombarded by small icy pebbles that welted his bare skin. He shivered and looked at Hadriana standing under the covering on the patio. <em>

_She looked pleased with herself and only shook her head with her hate saturated grin. _

"_Danarius would have your head if he knew what you did," she yelled. Her voice was barely audible over the dissonance that surrounded them. He bit his tongue, not wanting to exacerbate the situation any further. He fumed at her. Danarius should have been there and while she was probably right that the ends would be far worse than what they were right now, it would have been a hell of a lot quicker to accept than the drawn out affair that Hadriana had decided to inflict upon him. "Why did you do it?"_

_Leto harshly exhaled a couple of times. There was no real explanation as to why he did what he did. He just did it and he hadn't done it alone. D'lara- his elven accomplice- had committed the deed, but because of their friendship he decided that he should take the fall to protect her. He gathered his thoughts and looked into the bedroom window. Adria stood there watching from a distance. He glared at her before turning his attention back to the woman._

"_It was her fault," he snapped and pointed accusingly at the child on the upper level._

"_Really? What could she have done so bad that you had to do that?" she questioned. _

_She showed him the dismembered remains of Adria's miniature golem doll. They were cleanly severed into numerous pieces. The fluff spouted out in tufts of white and small hair like strands fell to the ground at her feet. She folded her arms and stared at him. Her weight shifted from side to side and the tight fitting gown left little to the imagination._

"_Does it matter?" he argued. _

_His muscles ached from the cold and the goosebumps that covered his exposed skin cause pain from his overly taut flesh. He tried to remain still, but the more he tried the harder he shook. _

"_No, it doesn't," she said with a shrug. "Danarius will be back tomorrow afternoon. If you survive the night out here, I won't say anything to Danarius about it. If not- then it won't really matter; now will it?" _

_She walked inside, slamming the glass doors and locking them shut. The elven boy examined the window again and still the girl remained. This time her hands were pressed against the glass. She was watching him and he felt her eyes catching his torment. He closed his eyes when the gales blew misty droplets into his eyes. When they opened- she was gone, but the fires still burned brightly in the chamber._

_Shattering glass drew his attention to the double doors. Adria was grabbing both handles and shaking the door back and forth violently. He frowned and wrapped his blistering arms around him to shelter his already drenched body from the cold. A guard approached and unlocked the door for the young one. He scolded her for breaking the panel of glass, but she shrugged him off. She ran to the rain soaked elf with her cloak in her hand and wrapped it around him. _

_The rain pelted it but it was warm and mostly dry for the most part. The girl, on the other hand, was saturated with the falling water. Her night shirt clung to her and her properly kempt hair hung in her face. She quaked from the frigid temperatures, but remained at his side. He kept eyeing her for signs that she would return inside, except she huddled next to him._

"_What are you doing out here?" he asked through chattering teeth. He pulled the wrap around him tighter. "You don't need to be out in this."_

"_I know it wasn't you that did it," she told him. "You don't deserve to be out here."_

"_You know nothing, Adria," he growled. "Just go inside."_

_The eight year old, glowered at the ground and sighed. _

"_If you're staying out here, then I am too," she said defiantly. Her expression changed to a glum and lost one. "Please, Leto; let me stay with you."_

_He wrapped her up in the cloak. Her arms wrapped around him the pair shivered for what felt like hours. He could feel her growing weak and he pulled her closer to him to keep her standing. His legs ached and he could barely breathe with how tightly she was holding him. He couldn't take it anymore and as gently as he could he led her to the ground to sit beside him. The hail thudded the water logged cloth. He huddled around her, protecting her from the barrage of falling ice. _

"_Oy, kids! What are you doing out here?" the guard captain called to the vibrating mass. Leto looked up at the man, unable to speak any longer. "Did Hadriana do this to you two?" The boy nodded and brought Adria closer to him protectively. "You go inside. I'll take care of this. Just remember to lock Master Danarius' door when you get there. You don't need her to come in. That would be… bad."_

_The lass stood up awkwardly without a word and led Leto inside by the hand. They were too tired and cold to care whether Hadriana caught them. The interior of the house was hot compared to the environment outside. Her pruned fingers searched the inside of her slipper and pulled out a key. The lock clicked and she forced the door open. The shivering princess closed the door so quietly that the latch seemed to echo off the walls._

_Adria pulled her night shirt off in front of him. He spun around embarrassed by the exposition. _

"_You need to dry off," she stated. _

"_I'll be alright." _

_He watched the fire and caught a glimpse of her small frame disappearing behind a screen in the mirror. When she came back into view, she was in one of Danarius' shirts. It hung off her shoulder and stopped just below her knees. She hopped onto the bed and scurried under the blankets. He smirked at the peeking eyes that loomed just over the top of the comforter. _

"_Well, you can't come to bed like that. Don't you have anything in here?" she chirped._

"_Just small clothes," he answered with a shrug._

"_Then put those on and get into bed. You don't want to get sick," she muttered._

_The lad disappeared behind the screen and removed his drenched coverings. He stood there nude as he scoured the small drawer for a change of underwear. Giggling caught his attention and he spun around. Long black hair hung from the side of the screen and obscured two large eyes. Leto blushed and waved her away. She disappeared and when he finished dressing he hopped into the bed beside her. It was an unusual feeling to be at the head of the bed. _

_Adria sunk under the blankets and rested her head on the downy pillow._

"_Night," she chimed._

_He rolled away from her and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. The fires danced and the exhaustion started to take hold. His eyes grew heavy and he yawned. He sighed and just before he fell asleep a jolt startled him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Adria buried into his back and sounds of soft crying were heartbreaking to experience. Her arm fell over his side and pulled him closer to her. Her shallow breathing hit his spine while small fingernails clawed at his weathered young skin. He interlaced his fingers with hers and soothed her while she slept. _

_When she rolled away from him, he followed suit, pulling her close to him and sweeping away her black locks from her face. She muttered in her sleep and stirred just enough to eke a smile out. He didn't sleep that night. He was enraptured by her. He wondered if this was what it was like to have a normal life. He was going to savor this moment while Danarius was gone. She didn't have to run out there, but she did regardless. He watched her sleep until the dawn broke. He never let her hand go, she needed him there right then._

* * *

><p>"You're rambling," Leto quipped.<p>

"Shut up," Adria grumbled.

He knew what she was saying. She didn't have to be blatant about it and while she stumbled and fell over her thoughts, he thought it was cute and scary at the same time.

D'lara interrupted his train of thought by reminding him that he had to help set up things for dinner. He excused himself and that was a sharp enough dagger for the girl who had left her vulnerability open enough for him to damage it. She shifted cautiously and nodded.

"Save you some cake?" she asked as he walked away.

"Wouldn't miss it," he answered over his shoulder.

He strolled into the kitchen and came face to face with a glaring D'lara. He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with her. He shuffled around grabbing everything they would need to prepare.

"You need to stop," D'lara said with a sigh.

"Stop what?"

"That thing you have going on with that girl," she snapped as she chopped through the bone of a thick roast.

"What thing?"

"You know damn well what thing?" she growled. She pointed the blade at the elf threateningly. "She is way above you and you seem to forget that. Can't you set your standards to something more fitting of your station?"

"What do you mean?" he queried. D'lara resumed her work and then it dawned on where she was going. "You? I have considered it. But when would I have the time?"

"Once that little dog lord bitch is doing what she's doing, he won't need you and then that could open up the possibility of-."

"We can't talk about this right now," he cut her off before she could finish. "My job is to look after her that's all."

"It doesn't look like that. You seem to be getting too close and I'm not the only one to notice it," she remarked, throwing the cooked meat onto the serving platter.

"Why are you arguing with me about this? There is nothing going on between us."

"Fine. Fine. If you want to lie to yourself then that's your problem. It's your neck on the line anyways. I just thought I'd tell you that maybe you should be looking to someone who has been nothing but completely devoted to you."

"D'lara," he murmured. He grabbed a rag and cleaned his hands off. "We can discuss it once dinner is done."

He grabbed the stack of plates and silverware and headed for the dining hall. His ears picked up the sound of her raving as the door shut between them. He was glad to be rid of the incessant nagging that seemed to get exponentially worse with each passing day. Adria had nothing to do with what his friend was suggesting and while her intentions were good, the way she posed those thoughts was completely off based and biased. The hints of jealousy and seething hatred that spurned those words of quiet contemplation were more flagellating to him than to her.

* * *

><p>They dined. The birthday girl was in her finest as she glanced at the food and meekly prodded it. She was pale when Danarius spoke to her and she had rejected his offering for cake. It was uncharacteristic of her and as she looked up at him, he knew that tonight was indeed the night. His heart raced and when the magister left the table to prepare himself, Adria sat there alone. He approached her, not listening to the warnings of D'lara from behind him.<p>

He caressed her back. The bony protrusions of her backbone peeked just slightly through the thin fabric of her dress. The deep blue shimmered faintly in the candlelight and her dark makeup made her deep green eyes all the darker with its black-rimmed eyeliner. He was making every attempt to make her feel better and without warning she threw her arms around him and sobbed.

He froze in place and listened to the soft sobs and muffled words that escaped her. She was speaking her native tongue and he was lost to it. The meter at which it was spoken was hardly decipherable from what little she'd taught him. He hushed her and held her for a moment.

"Adria," he croaked. His throat became tight and no matter how many times he tried to swallow, the knot wouldn't dislodge itself.

"I know. I know," she muttered.

She dried her eyes and he accepted the fact that time had run out for the both of them. He led her to the stairs and let her ascend the steps alone. This was something that he couldn't help or protect her from. She kept glancing over her shoulder at him and when she reached the top she paused and gave him one last hurtful glance. With that lingering picture to haunt him, she disappeared and the last sound he heard from where he stood was the door shutting.

His heart came to a stop and he waited for the inevitable truth to hit him. He knew that Danarius wasn't going to have a care or concern about her well-being from the get-go and every urge he fought off told him to stop her. Yet it was too late and his hands were tied.

"So I was right," D'lara remarked as she stood beside him.

"Shut up," Leto snapped.

He ran up the stairs and was hit by dreadful sounds emanating from under the door. He listened, unable to escape it. The grunting and crying that escaped from the crack. He broke as she screamed in agony and the sound of a slap landing on bare flesh made him jump back. The sounds were enough to paint the picture that would be etched into his mind. He argued with himself to not open the door and see it for himself. He rested his head on the door and shuddered. He was so close and yet so far away. She was defenseless to stop it and the beating continued.

Muffled voices haunted him and he couldn't listen to it. As much as he wanted to put an end to it, the deed was done and that small girl would be a different person by the time it was all over. Her innocence lost in a violent act that she had no control over. He wouldn't have treated her in such a way if it was him and that delicate lass would be the last person he wanted to hurt in such away.

It grew quiet and Leto held his breath. Pressing his ear to the door he listened to the scuffling from within. The somber crackling of wood in the fireplace and heavy breathing that seemed to radiate in all directions. The grunting and groaning continued by the all too familiar staggered breathing that meant they were nearing the finish. His eyes burned and he pictured her lying there, motionless, possibly unconscious from the assault. Her torn and broken body, left to fade on the expensive silken sheets. He slammed his eyes shut and scowled, begging for the images to disappear and leave him in peace. Yet they didn't ebb for him. They grew more insistent and angry, violent and almost exploratory.

Footsteps approached the door and he hurried away to the study and hid just inside the door. He stuck his head out and saw Danarius walking out of the room, his hair damp with sweat and a look of satisfaction on his aging face. Leto waited for him to reach the main floor before moving. He took diligent steps and followed the crying all the way to the egress of the master chamber. The smell hit him in the face and he recoiled briefly. He closed his eyes and prepared himself the best he could for the sight that he was going to see.

He took one step in and saw the small droplets of blood on the floor leading in the direction of a shadowed corner. He followed it, letting the sound of soft breathing and weeping lead him to the curled up body, wrapped in a blanket.

He knelt down beside Adria and was at a loss for words. There was nothing that they could say to each other. They both knew what happened. Why drag it out farther than it already had gone? He brushed away her hair and she flinched at his touch. She turned to him and shuddered. Her nose dripped with blood that landed on the blanket. Her lip was split and when she finally acknowledged the fact that he was standing there, she turned away abruptly and cried harder. Her beautiful applicated makeup was smeared and running. Her hair knotty and messy. The sweeping chignon hung loosely at her shoulders and yet, her bangs remained untouched, shielding the darkness of her eyes from him.

"Please don't look at me," she begged.

Leto stood and went to the nightstand on her side of the bed and retrieved her miniature golem doll from years before. The guard captain had taken it and had his wife stitch it back together for her at the boy's behest. He went back to her side and slowly made the doll dance for her happily. She caught sight of it and slightly smirked at what he was trying to do.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No," she sniffled.

He threw his arms around her, not caring that the sheet that had hid her nudity had slid down to her waist. He held her close, breathing her in. Her body quivered against him and when she pushed away, the shimmer of her eyes remained. The fire was only stirred brighter and it glowed with passion. The slow drip of blood bled threw his clothes and hit his skin.

"Do you need me to get the healer?" he questioned.

She placed the torn sheet to her nose and blotted the blood away.

"No." Adria shook her head and tried to stand. He helped her up and led her to the bed. Her legs were weak and when she stumbled he caught her by her bruised wrists. She winced and tried to withdraw, but Leto caught her and hefted her up as gently as he could. "If Danarius catches you he's going to hurt you."

"He can do what he wants with me. It doesn't matter."

He aided her getting into bed and covered her up. He sat in the chair across the room from her and watched her fall asleep. The golem doll lay on his lap and stared up at him with large black eyes. He would give it back to her in the morning, but first he had to come to terms with what Danarius had done to her. He wouldn't forget it and if he could ever gather up enough courage to defy their master he would. He would be dishonoring her not to do something about it.

She was his charge and he did the one thing he failed to do: protect her.


	11. Chapter 11

The stars hung above her as the moon was making its long trek from the apex of sky. The night loomed over her and the continuous darkness hid her battered body from prying eyes. Night after painstaking night she fled from that cursed room to regain what little dignity she could. She had to escape the pungent taint that seeped into her. The stale breath and sweat that wouldn't dissipate in the stiffest winds followed her.

The brisk autumn air was well worth the cold, compared to the monstrosity that slumbered yards away. Her white silken night gown flitted gently in the breeze as she walked in the grass towards the sounds of a small fountain. Guards passed on the path, carrying torches and talking amongst themselves, but not acknowledging her. Most were on their way back to the guardhouse, but some remained, still on night patrol.

Adria constantly looked over her shoulder to see if anyone had followed her and when she was certain that she was alone, she slipped between two large trees and into the dead of night. A small green patch of frigid grass greeted her bare feet. She rubbed the chill from her arms and felt the welts that were hot and rose with each pass of her fingers. Every muscle ached and screamed their attention to her.

She sat beside a small pond and stared at the shadowy figure looking back at her. The moon barely broke the treetops, casting its faint white glow on the water's surface. The quiet relaxation and solitude fit her in those trying moments. She breathed a sigh of relief and lay back on the grass. She looked to the heavens and traced the constellations and stellar orbs that floated above her. Her nightgown grew damp with dew and all she could think of was the appearance of some savior to come and take her away from the nightmarish life she was meant to live.

Tired eyes gazed until the universe was a blur. Her eyes welded with tears and excreted them when she yawned. She knew she couldn't linger here long, lest Danarius find out she was missing, but the warm arms of sleep beckoned her to relax and follow through with the natural order of things. A few hours peace would have been greatly appreciated, but stirrings within her stomach told her to stay vigilant. Instinct was overridden by need and she fell asleep with little argument for the reasoning.

* * *

><p>"Well, well, what do we have here?" the slurred voice questioned.<p>

"I don't know. It seems like the little mistress is lost. Such a shame," a second intoxicated voice replied.

Adria's eyes shot open and saw two guards staring down at her. She scrambled to her feet and rubbed the remaining exhaustion from her eyes.

"What do you want?" she muttered as she took a step back from them.

"Nothing, my dear lady. We were just wondering what such a docile creature, such as you, is doing all alone in the dead of night," the first guard answered with a sneer.

"Me thinks it's trying to escape from her master. Truly that would be dishonorable thing to do in this case," the second lisped.

"I wasn't trying to escape," she insisted.

"That's not what it looks like to us. It would be ever so heartbreaking to have to tell Master Danarius what his little prized position has been doing. I think my friend here would agree with me that certain obligatory actions would be necessary and we could forget this little meeting all together."

"Do you mean pay you? I have no money."

The pair chuckled and started towards her. Adria took several steps back and went to flee, but even in their drunken states they caught her and shoved her against the thick barked tree. It clawed at her already wounded flesh and splintered in fragments when the first guard pressed his knee into her groin. He restrained her hands over her head and leaned down on her.

"We won't accept money in this case my dear lady," he hissed in her ear.

"You should really reconsider; Danarius won't like it if you take advantage of me. He'll kill you both," she stammered, turning her head away from him when he tried to kiss her.

"And who is going to tell? You?" the first guard questioned with a grin.

"I will. He'll have your heads," she snapped.

She kicked at the guard and he lifted her higher onto the tree. She slid down again, but the hem of her gown stuck to the tree lifting it up high enough to see her upper thigh.

"She's a little spitfire isn't she?" the first guard chuckled.

"We can't have her telling Danarius. We'll gut her afterwards and tell him that we caught her trying to escape," the second proposed. He unsheathed his sword and slid it down the front of her gown. It ripped through it easily and exposed her completely to the night air. She was pawed at and thrown to the ground. The ragged gown was pulled away as she landed on her knees. She struggled to get away, but firm hands held her in place.

She started to scream loudly when the guard on top of her cupped his hand over her mouth.

"Scream if you want. This will make it all the more interesting," the guard muttered.

She felt him getting closer to his target and she bawled silently as he began his descent. She bit his finger and drew blood. The guard pulled his hand away and shook it.

"The little bitch bit me," he growled.

He yanked her up by the hair and spun her around to face him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement coming through the darkness towards them. She hoped that it was the kindly guard captain that had been more than courteous to her and Leto and while she stood there bare as the day she came into the world, modesty was a an afterthought at this point. She just wanted to be free of the despicable drunkards. They would pay; she would make sure that they did even if she carried her own punishment for sneaking away.

"What's going on here?" the familiar gravelly tone asked.

Her head snapped in the direction of the voice and saw Leto standing there. The guard unhanded her and snickered at the less than foreboding teen with a burning hatred in his eyes. Adria ran behind him and hid. She peered over his shoulder and gasped as they closed on him.

"What the little knife-ear came to play too? Isn't she a little out of your league, boy? I'm sure you've thought nothing of conjugating with her. Look at the saucy little vixen." Leto glanced over his shoulder at the shaken girl. "We've watched her grow up into a sexy young woman and we would have loved to partaken in the forbidden just as you probably have wanted to," the first guard said.

"To what end?" the elf asked uncomfortably. "She is not for me to have."

"Ah, but that's where you are wrong, my friend," the second guard chimed. "You let us have her first and then you can experience what you've probably imagined for a long time."

"Tempting, but no."

He darted for them and was met with several blows before toppling to the ground. Adria muttered an incantation and dazed the guard closest to her. He stumbled forward and shook off the haze. She grabbed the sword leaning against the tree and ran at him running the blade through his armor and out the back. He turned on her and saw the hilt protruding like an appendage. He pulled on it and got it halfway out before falling to his knees.

Leto saw what she had done and finished disengaging the weapon from the dying man's torso. The first guard swung and missed giving the elf time to parry his attack. The hand of the man she ran through grabbed her ankle and pulled her to the ground. His hands were slick with blood and she kicked at his head until she ran out of strength.

The elf fell beside her onto his back and blocked the incoming swing. The metal clanked sending burrs through the metal.

"Alright!" Adria yelled. "I'll do anything you want!"

The guard stopped mid-swing and glared at her.

"I want you to watch."

He continued his swing and met with a blow to the side from the blade in Leto's hand. He staggered back and coughed. A fountain of blood escaped the man's mouth as he fell backwards onto the ground. Leto got to his feet and helped Adria up.

"Watch me kill you, right? Because that's what I just did," he grumbled. He turned to Adria and walked back to the thin heap of cloth by the tree. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered with a nod. "You?"

"Better now." He winced abruptly and grabbed his side. "We should get you back to Danarius. He'll have probably woken up from all the noise."

"I'll take care of him. You're my concern right now," she remarked pulling the torn fabric over her shoulders. She knelt down beside him and lifted the cut shirt to see his injuries. She bit her lip at the gash across his mid-section and looked up at him. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"You're bleeding. Let me fix it."

"Fix it? How can you do that?"

"You promise not to tell?"

"What?"

She cast her healing spell and shook off the exhaustion that the spell put her in.

"Feel better?"

"Magic? You can use magic?"

"Aye, I can," she answered. "Please don't tell anyone."

"Secrets safe with me for now."

"For now?"

"Yeah, if you'll tell me about yourself later. I'm tired of all the mystery surrounding you."

"Don't you have someone else you're courting?"

"Doesn't matter, really. I spend more time with you anyways."

"Deal. I'll tell you after we deal with this mess."

* * *

><p>The two of them sat on the divan bloodied and ragged. Danarius and the guard captain looked at the pair of them discouragingly. Adria held her gown closed with her hands, while Leto hid the hole in his side.<p>

"So what happened?" Danarius growled.

"It's my fault, Master," Adria spoke softly. "I needed to get some air and I came upon them. They were drunk and were trying to take advantage of me."

"What about the elf? Where does he come into all of this?" the guard captain asked.

"I defused the situation. It was either that or let them have their way with her. I thought killing them was the safer alternative," the boy answered.

"You killed two hardened veterans to protect her?" Danarius questioned. "That seems greatly farfetched.

"It's true, Master," the weakened girl cooed.

The grown men looked at each other and at the condition of Adria and frowned. There was truth in their words. If Leto hadn't shown up none of them knew exactly what was going to happen until the cleanup happened.

"If what you say is true, then the boy was in the right?" Danarius concluded. "Go and get to bed and I'll handle the rest of this." The children both stood and headed for the stairs. "Adria, you realize you are going to have to work off what happened."

The lass cringed and nodded.

"Can I make a suggestion?" the guard captain interrupted.

"What, captain?" the magister growled.

"Why don't you let me train the boy? He's obviously strong enough to handle to grown men by himself. That and if she does get into trouble like this again, the education will be worthwhile for him. Maybe he'll be able to defend her more thoroughly."

"Thoroughly? He killed your men!"

"You understand what I mean, Master Danarius. She's a handful and with some restraint he could stop this from happening again, before it happens."

"Trust me my dear Captain. It won't be happening again."

"Please Master Danarius, let him try," Adria begged. "I'll take my licks if it'll give him the chance to do something with himself. He's getting older and it might temper some of that rage he has built up in him."

"Are you sure about this, my dear?" Danarius probed.

"I'd stake my life on it. You'll gain a fighter and I'll gain a more worthy protector."

"Fine, my love. Head to bed and I'll discuss it with the captain."

Adria nodded approvingly and headed up the stairs with Leto. She held his hand as she opened the door to the chamber and only released it when she slunk under the warm covers. Leto sat at her side, nearest her feet and watched her pull the ratty cloth from her body.

"I didn't get a chance to thank you," she muttered.

"You don't need to," he remarked.

"No. I do."

She leaned over and grabbed a small shirt out of the drawer by the bed and pulled it over her head. It was snug and warm and not so tattered.

"It's fine. Really," he insisted.

"It's not fine. Really." She threw the duvet to the side and crawled onto her hands and knees toward him. She kissed his lips gently and in shock he withdrew.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't like it?"

"No, I do. It's just that-," he stammered rapidly.

"Danarius?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'm sorry," she muttered, falling back onto her feet.

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

He held her hand and leaned into her kissing her in turn. She couldn't breathe and when she tried it caught in her lungs and refused to escape. The way he tasted was foreign, strange, and begged for longer exploration. Footsteps came to the door and drew the pair apart. Adria pulled the covers over her and laid her head on the pillow. Leto rested at her feet and grinned.

Danarius came in quietly and locked the door behind him. He returned to his position on the bed beside her and pulled her close to him. It was the first time in a long time that she had accepted being close to someone. The elf slid his hand under the blanked and stroked her inner ankle. His fingers traced the tendon as far as it would go until it got to her calf and back down again. He repeated it in a slower motion that tingled and felt perfectly exquisite.

"Night," she mouthed to him after she yawned.

"Night, Adria," he muttered as he watched her dark eyes close for the final time that night.


	12. Chapter 12

He felt the weight shift on the bedspread. If only for the brief moment of consciousness that superseded his ability to fall back into his dream-like state he would have never noticed her get up. The withheld breath that she refused to release when Danarius moved drew slowly out as she rounded the bed, only to peek over the elf to make sure that he was still asleep. Her hair swept over his arm in tickling waves, but he remained still, not wanting to startle her.

Her scent was effervescent and soft. Her eyes peered through him like daggers that made him nervous and anticipating of her touch. He cared for her and hid back all the things that he wanted to say – it wouldn't have been right to do so. He could never have what Danarius had and the only thing that he longed for was the girl who had stood between him and their master on more than one occasion. He watched her get beat and never flee.

He was made to watch, she became the whipping boy for him. He hated her for it. He wanted to save her just once, even if it didn't equate to all the times she'd cried. With every assault, she grew more withdrawn. The problems that were provoked were from neither of them, but D'lara instead. She was constantly stealing things from Hadriana or Master Danarius in pursuit of some retribution that was unnecessary. Adria knew all too well that it wasn't Leto that was causing the constant upheaval in peace, but she knew that he was protecting her all the same.

For whatever reasons, that only she knew, she still defied Danarius in order to protect him. With life and limb constantly hanging in the balance, she squared off against him to prove a point. It was infuriating to watch her be kicked and thrown and cut. He was ruthless in his punishments and when she would fall to the floor, unconscious and bleeding; he would wait until she awoke and continued his underhanded justice for what seemed like hours. There were a few times the he had hurt her in such a horrific fashion that the healers had to be summoned. Internal injuries and compound fractures were a rarity, but any and all wounds were made worse by Hadriana's own justice, leaving her unable to walk for days.

He wanted to know why she was doing it, when she knew all too well that it was D'lara. Her answer was sad, tragic, and painful to listen to. She knew that he cared about the elven girl and that he was willing to sacrifice himself for that blasted elf because they related and Adria was still an outsider and for what it was worth she knew that eventually her time would come and Danarius wouldn't have a use for her anymore. She would be spent and then laid on the table to be used in his rituals as a final causation to what had been a hellish life; devoid of anything worth holding on to.

She had failed everyone. The only words she ever uttered. The only hints he knew from her past. He never pressed for more information and knew that while she lived in what seemed like an eternity of errors and false reassurances, she wanted to do right by someone at least once. It was a hell of a burden for a thirteen year old to carry, but when push came to shove, she was willing to fall on her sword for it.

He argued her worth and what she actual meant to him in very long winded and roundabout fashions, but she wouldn't hear it from him. The taunting and teasing, the name calling that seemed to destroy her sense of self-worth a little bit more each day took its toll and the more they argued the more he noticed that she was slipping through his fingers and that slowly she was dying. She had no one and tried to rely on herself for everything because in the years that she had been there, she had seen much death and in all actuality was more or less expendable. But Danarius, on his good days, treated her like a queen.

Leto knew that their master loved her deeply and while he also understood that Adria in her own sick way loved him too, he couldn't help but feel envious of their affection towards each other. He hated them both because he also loved them both. He was alienated when they were together and subjugated to listening to their interactions behind closed doors. He didn't have to sit there and listen, but deep in his heart he knew that even in those dark moments she was doing it for him.

The worse abuse that heralded his falling to his knees always came at the cost of her. She was never present when Danarius took him to his bed and always she came afterwards to be by his side. Their master was voracious and usually sent him away to lick his wounds while he had his way with her. It never left his thoughts even while she cried herself to sleep. It was frustrating and tormenting, but still he stayed by her side as much as he could. She wanted him to be happy at the cost of her well-being. She knew he cared for D'lara and that their relationship was a farce. A dead dream amongst crystal icicles.

It wouldn't have been right for him to say it, because when it happened, bad things, horrible happened. He looked down on her and saw the small person with large eyes and a foreboding demeanor and he was swept away. If she wasn't so damn stubborn and actually relied on him they both might have been better off, but she refused and pushed him away. She told him that she didn't need him anymore and that he was better off pursuing _that elven girl_. She was lying. He knew it. She knew it, but still he withdrew and focused on what was probably meant to be. He would never have her and she him. Nevertheless, he forced himself to stay. He wanted to prove her wrong and many a night would pass where she would leave and disappear for hours.

This night was no different than any other in recent months. Danarius would finish and leave her battered and wounded, while she –with the aid of Leto- managed to scrape together what little of herself she had left and slink into bed. She had become more resistant to the damage and shrugged it off more often than not. She knew that she had given up her innocence long ago to deal and cope with what Danarius had set into motion for her before they even met.

The world could have come crashing down and it wouldn't have mattered. The Golden City could have been laid before them and it wouldn't have struck a chord with her in the slightest. Her emotions had turned off and the final killing blow was the hardest for him to accept when the utterance of closing herself off became all the more apparent. Her eyes were dead, her tone droning. Life was utter misery for her.

He followed her out and lingered in the hallway just long enough to see her black hair swiftly moving just beyond the stairs. The sound of the door shutting behind her was his cue to move. The hall was illuminated by many candles and magic lamps. Shadows couldn't evade them and neither could he. Heavy boots approached his location and he hurried through the door just as it was about to close between him and her.

He always followed from a safe distance, just to be sure that she was alright and wouldn't be caught by Danarius or Hadriana. Maker forbid they find her and then she would be gone from his life forever. The night greeted him like it had so many other nights previous. The small chirps and glows of fireflies casting their green light and dancing their escapades along the grass were some of the most soothing moments that followed their never ending days. He stuck to the shadows as best he could and froze when she turned and looked over her shoulder.

She had no idea really if he was there, but from the look on her face she either didn't care or was not concerned in the slightest. The guards would come but not say anything even though they pointed her out and conversed amongst themselves. He knew where she would head and let her be for those moments where she needed to cleanse herself. It wasn't his place to impose on her that she go back inside, but with heavy dread that caked them with its disgusting aroma, he knew that she couldn't remain out here for long.

"What are you doing out here?" one of the guards asked as he was entering the building.

Leto shrugged and took a deep breath. He knew this guard well and found that he was usually agreeable, unlike some of the others who would have loved to have brown nosed their way up the ranks to make guard captain. Even then it would be a challenge because the current one played both sides of the fence. He was stern in the presence of Danarius, but kind hearted and willing to listen when he was with Adria. She had spent many an hour speaking with him and they both found out that he had children the same age as them. He didn't like what the situation was, but knew that it wasn't his place to say anything given his status and Danarius' temper. He was doing what he could for them on the side and trying to make it just a little bit more bearable for them.

"Taking a break," Leto muttered, kicking a stone into the grass.

"Does Master Danarius know?" the guard questioned.

"No," he answered with a frown. "I just need a few minutes. That's all."

"Just be quick about it. I know the little miss is out here as well. If you need to get her I would suggest making that your first priority. Some of the guards had a late night and will be seeking company. Primarily your little friend," he reported.

"Why would they do that? They should know better," Leto interrogated.

"I'd stop it if I knew exactly when and where it was going to happen, but I have other things that I must attend to. I've spoken my peace and if you care for her as much as I know you do, then you will hurry to her and bring her back in. She has no idea how bad things are right now between the guards and Danarius. If they can use her to get to him they will and it won't be pretty in the end. Odds are they will kill her and probably pin it on you just for spite."

Before he could question him more, the guard was gone and a shriek emerged from the darkness. It rippled through the fading breeze and the exact location was indecipherable. He sprinted in to the black in the direction he saw Adria disappear in. He saw subtle movements in the distance. The babble of water and the sobs of the girl that echoed in his head like a siren's call told him that he was near her.

He slowed just enough to let his eyes correct and the shadowed figures take a more static form. The heavy panting and tearing of fabric, he knew those sounds. The struggling and rustling that called the signs of struggle. He watched her and waited to see what she would do, but when she couldn't fight the pair off, she was down on the ground clawing at whatever she could. The screams continued and became a gasping for air and a yelp between the sloshing of mail against steel.

He saw that frail nude body in the pitch black and the grip at which she was held. She wasn't going to survive this and he knew that if he didn't step in soon, he would be witness to her murder. He brushed the branches aside and made his presence known. It was enough to break the three of them apart and gave her enough time to get away. She ran behind him and only peered over his shoulder. Her small hands clutched his shirt tightly in fear of what had almost happened.

They talked briefly of compromise and a fair trade off. He would get her, sure, but at the cost of her trust and respect. How he would have reveled in actually experiencing her and the idea seemed good at the moment, but then that love they had built for each other would have crumbled and he would have been no better than Danarius or these guards that tried to impose their wills on him. He was better than that, better than what they could dish out and if they had to go through him to get to her then he would have taken that gladly.

She was forbidden and unattainable. It was what made her more attractive and vulnerable. _The little girl on the pedestal._ No one could reach her and she would only come down when she was allowed to. He would have knelt at her feet if it meant they could have been on level ground for a brief moment. She never threw her status around when it came to him. She didn't care about it. They were equals and only boasted the good things in Danarius in Hadriana's presence.

He could feel her eyes examining his reaction and her hot breath cutting through the fabric of his shirt in rhythm. Soft words of _please don't let them_ and _you're not like them_, weighed heavily on him. She was right. He wasn't them and if he wanted to move in on her, he would. It wouldn't have been right for either of them and it surely wouldn't have been fair to D'lara who he'd been having an ongoing relationship with. While it hadn't gone beyond the secret trysts into the dark corners of the courtyard, he never consummated anything with her. He wasn't ready for that and intimacy of that level was too hard to grasp when it came to those aspects.

He wanted Adria. He wanted to experience that moment with her. She was the shelter from all the bad in the world. The way she lit up a room when she entered. Even with D'lara scowling, she shrugged her off and sung songs of the Dalish and of Tevinter at Danarius' request. She sung beautifully and nearly brought him to his knees on several occasions. The way she looked at him when she would sing; the world faded away and she was singing to him alone. Their worlds would collide and dissipate into a dust of cosmic nothingness and recombine into something more majestic than when they were separate.

Her own dealings had driven him into D'lara's arms and he still pined for the human and led the elf along because he knew that it would never work. She was beyond his reach. In a land farther than he could ever tread. Above him and away and yet so very close that when they were alone their breaths would intermingle and spread amongst the stars in outcast feelings. He couldn't do her wrong, no matter the cost. Whether it was really love or lust it wasn't the issue. The enigmatic Adria had him and all he wanted was to heal her from what ailed her the most.

He declined their offer. It was the smart and dangerous thing to do. An audible sigh of relief escaped his little mistress and the scuffling of her bare feet on the grass slowed to a stop. They were going to have to get her over his dead body and he sprang to action before they could muster up the strength do anything first. A preemptive strike that threw them off guard, but the initiative was lost quickly when their weapons were drawn and they were launching their own attacks.

His eyes kept darting from the guards to Adria. She was wobbly and dizzy. He had failed to protect her. He was so focused on the guard in front of him that the squeal of metal on metal and tearing flesh slowed the combatants to a near halt. Leto looked at her and saw the mortally wounded man on his knees and he took his chance to gain a weapon.

He jumped back and pulled the sanguine sword from its human sheath. He blocked the incoming swing and was met with a right hook in the ribs. He gasped for breath and staggered back. His foot caught a sharp stone giving the guard enough leverage to sweep his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard and met Adria. She was staring at him. They were both on the ground, but she refused to move. The glint of steel above him alerted him to the danger and he blocked another downward swing.

"I'll do anything!" the shrill cry ripped through his soul.

She was giving in. She was going to let the remaining guard defile her. To protect him… again. She held nothing sacred anymore and whatever she had left to give she wasted on him. She bought his life many times over with what was between her legs, amongst the multitude of times to feed the magister's insatiable thirst for her. Multiple times a day every day. Sometimes slow. Sometimes with passion. Sometimes quietly, others louder than the drums of war.

He couldn't let her do it and thanked the Maker that it was the distraction that he needed to kill the son of a bitch where he stood. He was going to be the hero for her. Save her life and there was no way he was going to allow her to repay him.

_Unless she wanted to be on her knees for a few minutes longer._

Leto rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet. The clank of metal on dirt reverberated through the plates of armor. He swung wildly and sliced into the guard's torso. He felt the trembling of the guard's muscles convulsed from the trauma. The hilt shook in his hands and it pained him. There was warmth that radiated through him. He was shaken when he didn't hear Adria anymore. He looked for her and saw her leaned up against a tree.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She stood their exposed to the world and without acknowledging the bareness of her body and the way she was grubby and stained. The blood that oozed from cuts on her body and she still looked beautiful. He handed her the torn scrap of fabric and let her dress again. It was then that he felt a sharp pain in his side. He didn't want to worry her. He would be fine. He swore to himself that he would survive it and be better for it.

"You're injured," she muttered.

Her eyes were as wide as the darkened moon above.

"I'm fine. You need to get inside."

Before he could protest further she was at his side. Her small hands searched his body. They were cool soft and growing sticky from his blood. He wanted her to keep touching. There could have been better ways to do it besides the predicament they were in now. She wouldn't look at the bodies on the ground, but her eyes examined him. The musculature of his frame and if bliss was a word that fit this moment he would have accepted that on all accounts.

"I can fix it."

He scoffed at the idea of her fixing it. How was she, of all people, going to fix him? She became smaller and smaller right before his eyes as if she doubted herself on what to do.

"Promise not to tell?"

He agreed on his terms. He wanted to know her. She was rigid and resistant to his request but decided that it was the best thing that she could do in the moment. He didn't believe her. She wasn't that good of a liar. Maybe eventually she would come around, but not then and maybe he shouldn't have pushed.

She muttered to herself and a heat entered his body. It felt like when the healer would come and he held his breathe and let it envelop him. He was startled by the truth in showing what she was truly capable of. He was scared of her. She would end up like Danarius. If the magister did find out about her powers then she would be in a world of hurt. Most likely she would be killed on the spot regardless of what she meant to him.

* * *

><p>He watched Danarius and the guard captain pace in front of them. His concern was Adria. He didn't care what happened to him. The small lass, wrapped in her torn gown, sticky with various blood splatters in a collage of dirt and leaves sat motionless, her ankles crossed. Not a speck of pale white skin showed through the caked red-brown that smeared her body in natural paint.<p>

His injury had grown numb, but he was more worried about the mistress. She hadn't complained of any injuries and with the amounts of blood on her, he didn't know if any of it was hers.

She confessed her guilt to the men and awaited the punishment that would be coming. There was none. The guard captain was annoyed at what happened. Not about them sneaking off in the middle of the night, but that the guards under him would act in such a despicable manner. He apologized for them and found it intriguing that such a young man could take care of two seasoned guards.

He hadn't. Adria took out one, but she didn't correct him. He was getting all the credit while she was going to end up the fall guy.

"Training."

He liked that idea and while Adria had imposed it without his consent he accepted it graciously. Danarius sent them up to bed and warned her that she would pay for leaving the room. His heart nearly stopped at the ominous tone that floated on those words.

They were alone. He watched her undress from the tattered frock and pull on something slinky and tight. It hugged her curves in all the right places and he couldn't stop staring at her. Her hair fell over her shoulders and even with the filth, sweat and blood, she was still captivating.

She uttered her thanks and while he rejected it as part of the job, she wouldn't have it. She was sleek in her movements. She neared him. Her eyes sized him up. His breath held as they became close and she melted into him. The pressure in his body rose and the inner purging of unrequited desire shook him off his foundation. He couldn't take it. He was overwhelmed by her. He pulled away setting the distance between them.

She held a look of shame and recoiled. She did nothing wrong. But if Danarius had found out they would both be slaughtered before the dawn. It was everything that he wanted. She was everything that he needed and here he had cast aside the bond that would have made the whole thing click.

_To hell with it._

He had to experience her again. She was not to be taken for granted and if she would allow him to trespass on her again he would die right there. He leaned in on her and pulled her close. He took her in and let them mesh. He resisted every calling to take her. The way her body pressed into him. Their hearts were beating so close to each other in a chaotic storm of rhythm. His hands felt through her and he prayed that Danarius didn't enter. He wanted this. This moment that should have been for them, where nothing mattered.

It ended abruptly and the feelings drained. The master was coming and the fleeting experience was at an end. He forced himself to be satisfied as he lay at her feet. The slight swelling of her lips from the assault and the faint smile she had marked the conclusion of their night. Danarius took his place at her side and held her close.

How he envied that son of a bitch. He wanted her. It shouldn't have been that man, but him to swaddle her with his affection and keep her safe. But he would never be able to provide for her the way the magister could. He hated himself for it. It was a dream that would endure for as long as was necessary. He snaked his hand under the covers and claimed what was his: the feel of her skin on his fingertips, her sheer essence that should have been coveted by the worldliest of scholars. He wasn't going to forget their intimate moment and while in body she belonged to Danarius, the rest she had given him. He didn't feel worthy of it. She was much too pure for him and yet he wanted nothing more than to devour every inch of her with every sensation he could concoct. It was for the best that he understood that it would never happen.

He was a fool. He hated it. He couldn't believe that the catastrophes of their lives brought them together. She made him different and yet he remained the same. When she wasn't around he felt nothing. Nothing mattered to him. She gave him a reason to continue. As much as her eyes told him that he was the reason she endured for him. Her soul belonged to him and he couldn't let that part of her turn to dust. She was too rare to let drift amongst the pain alone.


	13. Chapter 13

Warning: total NSFW graphic sexual content and language (I was in a filthy mood... shame on me.)

* * *

><p>"Please, don't. No more," Adria wept out loud amongst the throngs of spectators. She cradled the boy's head in her lap as Leto stared down at him ready to strike. She had hardly noticed the lad; he had matured so much over the years. He wasn't scrappy, but lean and muscled for a youth of no more than sixteen. Her dress grew damp with sweat and blood, but she held him close shielding him from the killing blow. "Why are you doing this?" she sobbed. "You shouldn't be here."<p>

"If I had won I was going to ask for your release," the boy sputtered.

"I was fine. Everything was fine," she argued. "Please Master Danarius, not him. Let him concede defeat but don't let him kill him. He's all I have left."

* * *

><p><em>Eighteen hours earlier….<em>

She had to get away from the multitudes of bodies that flowed in and out of the estate. Laughing escaped through opened doors and spilled onto the gardens in the dead of night. It was overwhelming the way the magisters spoke. The way they looked at her like she was a piece of meat for them to feast on. She inhaled the air and the rapture of solitude filled her.

She sat on the bench and sipped the fruit endowed wine. There was no way to escape the noise and the heat that smothered her. It was a brief respite from Danarius and Leto. The way they pined for her, each in their own right, had left her unsettled and strangely alienated. She didn't want the attention that seemed to be directed at her. Everyone was dressed in their best and while Danarius had allowed her to be excused for a few simple minutes she couldn't shake the fact that he was near her still.

Guests from far and wide had come to celebrate the tournament that would come at dawn. Many combatants were reveling in the festivities; the unadulterated segue to the dueling and blood bath that would stain the ground with liters of hot lifeblood. The grass wouldn't be that lush green. It would be trampled and tainted by so many that the once tranquil escape was all too capable of becoming a rotting wasteland.

"Mistress Adria," a man called from the patio. She stiffened and placed the glass beside her. There went the quiet and evasion that she had yearned for since the party began. She rose and curtsied politely as the man and woman approached. "It's interesting that we would find you out here by yourself. Is there trouble?"

Adria shook her head and tried to remember who this stranger was that was addressing her. He seemed so familiar to her. When he first arrived they had locked eyes on each other. He passed amongst the crowds, never taking his eyes off of her. She tried to ignore him and enjoy the delight and spectacles, from dancers and musicians to the blatant disgust for Danarius' show of blood magic to wow the visitants.

"There's no trouble, ser. Just breaking away to catch my breath," she stated. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"It's interesting," the woman said with a shrug. "I don't know about your paramour, but you don't seem to fit into this scenario. You seem different, foreign." She sighed and sized the female up. Her white hair reflected the moon beams in radiant shimmers. "You're Fereldan aren't you?"

"I was," Adria admitted with a frown. "It's been so long since I've been there. I don't even know if I can call myself that anymore." Her eye brow crooked at the pair of them. She crossed her arms defensively and stared at them. "Why what's it to you? Who are you?"

"I'm Nevaran, Warden-Commander for the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. This is Anders and-"

"There you are," a man said from the door. He leaned casually in the jamb with a mug clutched tightly in his hand. "Nathaniel and I were looking all over for you."

"Thanks for interrupting me, Alistair. We were just making the introductions," Nevaran snapped.

"We've met before," Anders stated. He smirked at the small woman.

Adria was confused. She had no recollection of this man. Then it hit her all at once. The blonde hair, the piercing amber eyes. He was more rugged now and time dragged deep lines into his face.

"From the ship," she gasped. "You're a Warden now?"

"I am. Strange isn't it?"

"You didn't seem the type to be bound to an organization," Adria said. Nevaran shot a look at the aged mage and shook her head. "What do the Wardens want with me? I'm just a concubine for Danarius. He's not my paramour."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," Anders muttered.

"We came to see the competition. We'd heard about it and we had to come and see. Luckily, your master was gracious enough to let us come uninvited. Anders is here for his own reasons," Nevaran jumped in breaking the awkward silence that overcame them.

"Commander, do you think I could speak with Adria for a few moments," Anders implored.

"Make it quick, we don't want to keep her from her intended tasks," Nevaran smugly replied.

They waited for the other Wardens to retreat inside before turning their attentions to each other. It was an uncomfortable moment for them. Twelve years had passed for them. The small child matured into a woman. The heinous speaking mage became calmer with age and was none the worse for wear.

"Where have you been?" Adria asked.

"Around. I went back to Ferelden a year after we got here. There wasn't much going on and the politics and struggles that come in this blasted city were harder to take for a mage of my age. You seem to be doing well for yourself."

Adria snorted disapprovingly.

"Sure. If you call sleeping with an abusive, dominating asshole doing well, then yeah, I guess I am. It's not like I haven't had years to come to terms with what happened to my family. Or the fact that I have one friend that is about to fight tomorrow in the coming battle," she scoffed.

"You're worried about him. That's understandable."

"Are any of the Wardens fighting tomorrow?"

"No-o-o-o. Nevaran wouldn't allow it. She's just here for the sport. I came to see if you yet lived."

"Well, I'm alive. Now what?"

"Nothing."

"You sure? Everyone wants something from me," she grumbled.

"Can I speak with you later? We're only staying till after the tournament. I would love to catch up with you."

"It wouldn't be right. I don't have the freedoms or liberties anymore that I used to."

"I understand," he said with a sigh. "Can I get a hug then?"

"Odd request," Adria murmured.

"It's just that. If you don't want to, I'll understand. I just thought I'd show how much I missed you. A day hasn't passed that I haven't thought about you at some point."

"Well, when you put it that way: how can I refuse?" she said with a grin.

She embraced him. It was a gentle gesture that required nothing be given in return. It was affection in its simplest form. She looked over Anders' shoulder and saw Leto staring at her. His eyes were wide and he visibly shook in front of her.

He shot off without a word before she could catch him. She had to find him.

* * *

><p>Tonight was the night he had to get it out of his system. He had to tell her how he felt about her. If he died she would never know. He thought about for many a night as he watched her sleep. It might have been wiser to say nothing and not break her heart if he did indeed fall, but his conscious wouldn't allow for the frightful omission to remain. He questioned him and her and the words that should have been said years ago. She had become so important to him that the thought of losing her completely to Danarius terrified him.<p>

The magister had concluded the festivities, leaving him to find Adria for the night. He saw two men follow a woman out the front entrance, but he was sure that there was another that had accompanied them. He was nowhere to be found. He searched for the little miss- a term that the guard-captain had lovingly concocted to make her role seem less rought with pain- from room to room. Her last whereabouts were in the direction of the gardens to the back.

He rushed around drunken partiers, which stumbled and stopped him. They asked him asinine questions that he could hardly answer. It was incoherent slurred speech sprinkled with chuckles and awkward glances. He excused himself as politely as he could and what he saw he could hardly believe.

Adria, the object of his affection, in the arms of another man. There were no words that could be expressed and he froze in shock. He was angry; infuriated that she would allow another man to be so close to her. A person that she didn't know but for a few minutes.

_Maybe D'lara was right._

He stormed off in a fit of rage. He couldn't bear to look at her any longer. He felt betrayed and wounded. After all the countless nights he listened to the sex driven moans that permeated the dusky night, she still found it in her heart to stab him deeply. All the words she ever uttered came back in a maelstrom of lies and deceit. How could he believe a single word that she said? Flashes of the nights he held her while healers tended her wounds or carrying her to bed when she could no longer move. The adoration and glint of life that shown through those deep eyes when she looked at him were nothing but more manipulation for her to use against him.

He swung the kitchen door open and saw D'lara tending the embers of the fireplace. He'd show that deceitful vixen if it was the last thing he did. Leto grabbed the elven lass by the wrist without a word. He'd waited years to delve into Adria and with the final hopes slipping through his fingers he had to release the frustration that had been pent up for years.

"Where are you taking me?" D'lara squeaked.

"Any which way I can get you," he mutter over his shoulder.

"Finally come to your senses?" she snorted.

"You could say that."

He found himself standing outside the hallway closet at the opposite end of the hall where he knew Danarius would be waiting for Adria. D'lara giggled as he shoved her into the closet and slammed the door behind him. He pinned her up against the wall and hiked the skirt of her dress up. He closed his eyes as he slid into her. It was hot, tight, and not what he had expected. She backed into him hungrily and he was more than happy to oblige her with each thrust he made.

She shuddered and moaned as he pounded her. He was angry and he hated that damned human. Every muscle trembled. His thighs ached and every ounce of pressure filled his gut as he held back the urge to explode. In the dark he pictured Adria. It was she that he was violating. She was the one taking the full brunt of his exertion. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. She arched sharply and he groaned at the depths that he was achieving. He was going to win. There was no way around it.

The door swung open and in the blinding light he saw the shadow of Adria looking at him. Her silhouette was unlike any other. He stopped mid-thrust and they stared at each other. His eyes adjusted to her and as he regained control over himself he stammered incessantly. He couldn't move and he lost the ability to breathe.

"Adria," he stuttered.

She slammed the door in his face. He scrambled to pull his pants up and go after her. His plan had failed and now he felt like shit. He hadn't planned on being found and now that he was discovered fucking another woman- a woman that Adria knew all too well for her hidden motives- he couldn't help but hate himself even more.

"What are you doing?" D'lara questioned.

"I have to go after her," Leto stated.

"Why? Isn't she off to do the same thing to the master?"

"It doesn't matter. I've always been there for the aftermath."

"I doubt she'll want you there this time."

"Whether she does or doesn't I'm still going to…"

"Just forget about her. This is what you wanted," D'lara snapped.

"No," he remarked as he shook his head. "It's not."

He staggered out of the closet and listened to D'lara insult him for his lackluster performance. His mind was clouded and scattered. What if she had went to tell Danarius? What if she was already in his arms seeking a comfort that Danarius would never truly give her? He stood at the door and listened briefly for those all too familiar auditory responses. The door opened and Danarius stood there with a deviant grin on his face.

"Ah, Leto, there was something we'd like to discuss with you," the magister said with glee.

The elf looked past the master and saw Adria smirking at him.

"Yes, Master," Leto responded.

The door closed behind him and locked quickly.

"My dearest Adria has proposed an interesting new twist this evening to please her master. While I might not wholly agree with it, I think it'd be a splendid idea to end a wonderful night. We might be losing you tomorrow, so you'll be joining us tonight," Danarius explained as he rounded the elf and made his way to Adria. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her.

Leto couldn't take it. He'd never witnessed it and here he stood watching his master and Little Miss kissing passionately. His fingers fiddled with the brass buttons of her dress. She pulled her clips out of her hair and dropped them to the floor. The gown fell to the floor leaving her nude. Danarius cupped her breast and slipped his tongue down the curvature of her neck down to her tender nipple.

A knot grew in his throat. Adria was watching him. Her head cocked with curiosity. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't help but stare in horror as Danarius disrobed and laid her across the bed. He was beckoned to them and ordered to strip. He wasn't allowed to touch her. All he wanted to do was feel her, but he wasn't given the option. Her head hung off the bed, but she was fixated on him as the magister mounted her. She winced softly as he began to move in her.

White teeth peeked through as she bit her lip. He was disgusted, but aroused by it. Her breasts heaved as she came. Her eyes rolled and resumed their piercing glares at him. He had to touch himself. He was becoming hard and the soft glow of sweat blotted against her skin made the scene more erotic. He was firm and when her mouth opened as she gasped he pictured inserting his throbbing member into it. Letting her lips enclose around him. He wanted to experience the pulsating through her lips as her tongue danced across his head hungrily.

Danarius called him to him as he slammed his hips into hers. She yelped in pain but remained in time with him. Leto joined cautiously. He still couldn't take his eyes off of her. He could smell her in the air as Danarius kissed him. He couldn't help but grunt when her leg caressed his cock. Her hand searched his thigh until it hit its mark. She squeezed it and in a heartbeat he thought he was going to explode on her.

The magister pulled out of his mistress and led his head to his rock hard manhood. He could smell her musk on him. He was slick with her and he hungrily lapped up her fluids. Danarius grunted approvingly and his head fell back. Adria slipped between Leto's legs and he was wracked with an excitement he'd never felt when he felt the tip of her tongue touch his engorged head. She suckled him and took as much of him in as she could. His hands felt the moist parts of her and slid his fingers into her wet hole. She arched as his thumb nimbly rubbed her clit in a circling motion.

Danarius pulled back and set him on the floor as he set Leto before her. He slid into him and he groaned as he tore and stretched to accommodate him. He could feel the pulsing and as Adria pinched her nipples and watches as the magister rode him, the vulnerability they were sharing was more powerful than the act itself. Danarius grabbed her legs and led the elf into her. She gasped and pumped her hips as she rode his shaft. He wanted to fill her up, but he resisted. He wanted to endure this for as long as he could. Her velvety textures were nothing like he'd imagined.

He was losing himself to the ecstasy as his hips slammed into her. He was going to enjoy her in every conceivable way. Danarius gripped his shoulder while Leto flipped her around and slid into her tight hole. He reveled in it. The way she did the work and rode him hard. She was screaming as her skin grew slick. Their master pulled out and lay on the bed. He sat Adria on his face and devoured her. He knew that he was entering the homestretch. He inserted himself into Danarius and stroked him. Adria met his hands and kissed as he helped ply her handiwork. She spit into her hand and swirled her fingers across his head. Danarius groaned as they worked him together. It was hot and the way she tasted was far better than the first time they had kissed. Her swollen lips- from constant biting- were begging to be kissed. He obliged their request and hungrily tasted her.

Their hands grew sticky and wet as Danarius came. Leto didn't want to let go, he wanted to end his night in Adria. He slid out of Danarius and pulled her to the side. Danarius kissed her as he slid into her again. He hated how the magister was blocking his view of her beautiful face. When he pulled away he lost it, spilling into her at a frantic pace. He collapsed beside her, out of breath and exhausted.

The magister pulled her close and buried his head in her neck. Adria looked at him and frowned. He hadn't noticed it at the time, but the look behind those eyes was one of no emotion. She was empty; devoid of any emotion. He realized then and there that this wasn't an intimate affair, but one of contempt that she made him participate in. She had used him, just Danarius had and how the master used her. She had known all along that he had remained at the door and listened to the painful trysts that she had to make from night to night. She knew that it scarred him and that his imagination had run to places it never should have treaded. She wanted him to watch it.

* * *

><p>Adria was the last one to awaken. Her body was overcome with pain. Every muscle screamed in agony as she squirmed out from under the twisted and tangled sheets. The room reeked of sweat and semen. It was a familiar smell that greeted her in the morning like the coming dawn did. She heard many voices from down below. Spectators were gathering on the lawn in preparation for the day's tournament.<p>

She hurried out of bed and readied herself the best she could without aid. She called to one of the slaves and asked if they could tie her into her dress. She felt horrible for even asking, but she had to be down there to make her appearance. She fixed her hair and applied her makeup and marched down the stairs. She saw Leto sharpening his blade in a far corner. His eyes diverted from hers when he noticed her and continued prepping himself for the coming battles.

Danarius smiled when she walked into the dining hall. Three other magisters were conversing with him about the events that were to follow. The agenda was quite clear. Battles to the death; winner take all and the boon of their choosing. She watched as unfamiliar slaves bolted from one location to another after their masters' various demands. A red headed elf approached Leto. They spoke briefly and a smile she hadn't seen from him appeared.

It wasn't something she had come accustomed to. He rarely smiled and when he did it was in sarcastic smirks that either meant he wasn't paying attention or what she had to say was inane and silly. A slave approached her and offered her a tea cup. She swigged it down quickly and followed Danarius out to the covered dais where they would watch the tournament.

A red dawn hung above, burning away the final embers of night. The crickets ended their serenades and she found herself lost amongst the numerous groups of people. She saw the Wardens from the night before. Anders stood beside Nevaran with a smile on his face when she acknowledged him with a small wave. Nevaran elbowed him in the ribs when she saw the exchange. It was fair to say that the day wasn't going to end well for anyone, but for one person.

She hated the violence. It was pointless and more degrading to have so many approve of such a spectacle. Adria was lost in thought about what would happen to the champion. Danarius had researched an ancient ritual that had cost him hundreds of sovereigns to obtain the ingredients to attempt. As for the intended winner, well, it wasn't going to be the most positive events for them. A full on bodyguard and slave to one of the most powerful magisters in Minrathous; while it sounded like a boon fit to anyone who wanted to have the glory under their belts, it didn't explain the possible side effects of the rite.

* * *

><p>They watched the combatants fight until the sun hung high in the azure skies. Clouds were forming off in the distance. Round after round led to cheering and bets from the nobility. It was a dance in blood sport. Severed limbs had drawn blanks in the pit of her stomach. She pictured her father when a man had lost his arm in a clean sweep. The glint of steel, the protruding bone and here she sat again the age of six. The man looked at her as Leto slashed the man across the throat. His head flopped back unnaturally. He fell to the side and the sound of whistling and gurgling erupted into the air in a morbid cadence. It was rhythmic as the blood gushed to the ground around him. She sat motionless to the action and waited for the final whispers of breath fade away.<p>

The finals were upon them. She watched Leto take the field, followed by a strapping young man. They approached the grand stand as Danarius told them that this was the final bout. The elf looked over at her and nodded when asked if he was ready to proceed. The younger boy turned to her and bowed and acknowledged that he was prepared.

Adria leaned on the railing to get a better view as the fighters got into position. Both were armored and wielding two-handed weapons. The human appeared far more fearsome than Leto did, but he still carried the look of a child. They lunged at each other. They scrambled across the field and swung. The clash of steel reverberated through the zephyr and Leto made a wild swing that dug the blade deep into the boy's side.

He coughed blood and fell to his knees. The elf was winding up for the killing blow when the boy met her eye. She grew frantic when she realized who the boy was. She dashed onto the field and slid in the grass. Her hands were painted in blood, but she didn't care. She wiped them off on her red gown and fell to the boy's side.

"Sister," he gagged through bubbles of blood.

"Hush, Carver" she insisted. "Please, don't. No more," Adria wept out loud amongst the throngs of spectators. She cradled the boy's head in her lap as Leto stared down at him ready to strike. She had hardly noticed the lad; he had matured so much over the years. He wasn't scrappy, but lean and muscled for a youth of no more than sixteen. Her dress grew damp with sweat and blood, but she held him close shielding him from the killing blow. "Why are you doing this?" she sobbed. "You shouldn't be here."

"If I had won I was going to ask for your release," the boy sputtered.

"I was fine. Everything was fine," she argued. "Please Master Danarius, not him. Let him concede defeat but don't let him kill him. He's all I have left."

* * *

><p>The crowd was silent. She held the boy so close he thought he would disappear. The small peek of intestine emerged from the deep cut in his armor.<p>

_Carver. _

It was a name of a person he knew very little of, but Adria had tried to explain to the best of her ability what that name meant to her. A brother, like him; one that was trying to fight to gain his family's freedom, just as he was.

The fluid that surround the siblings flowwd freely now and the boy was growing pale with each passing breath. Adria held her hand to his exposed entrails and muttered softly to the shivering boy. He clenched her hand and shook his head.

"Please Leto, don't. Don't," she begged. She sprung to her feet and approached the group of people. Her face was a shade of white. There was no color to her complexion. "Please Nevaran, help him. Conscript him. Do something."

He looked at the dying lad and his heart broke. Carver had his attention directed at him as his sister argued with the Wardens. He frowned and sighed. He didn't want to kill him, but when the boy nodded for him to proceed to end his suffering, it took every bit of energy to yield to his request. He gave a final look to the frantic woman and plunged the wide blade through his chest.

Carver quaked as the point of the sword hit the ground beneath him. He gave his final breath and fell limp. The audible gasp rumbled through the crowds until it hit Adria. Nevaran's hand covered her mouth in shock and the one named Anders had reached out to restrain his mistress.

She turned and spotted the blade still protruding through her deceased brother's chest. She glared at him. A hatred that burned stronger than Void pierced the Veil and settled deep within her. By the Maker, he didn't want to do it, but there was nothing he could do. He was honor bound to end his life and the end result was to betray the woman he cared for in the worst possible way.

She refused to move. Her eyes were wild with rage, but she remained still. He didn't know what she was going to do. He hoped that Anders could contain her until she calmed, but in a flash, she broke away from him and retrieved her brother's fallen sword. She drug it behind her as she ran at him.

"Adria, what are you doing?" he questioned as he blocked her incoming swing.

"You might as well kill me too. You destroyed all I had left, you son of a bitch!" she screamed.

She ran after him and swung uncontrollably at her target. The darkened skies began to open up on them. It pelted both of them, but the crowds remained steadfast as she screamed at him. She raged and burned and when she had expended all of her energy he disarmed her. She was bloody, battered; her dress was torn and sopping in the downpour.

"I'm sorry," he yelled through the roaring thunder.

"So am I," she muttered. She spun away from him and launched a fireball at her brother's corpse. "He deserved better than this."

Danarius stormed the field with two guards. She fell to her knees in exhaustion. Hushed whispers rumbled through the crowd as they watched the guards grab her by the arms and hoisted her to standing.

"Magic?" Danarius bellowed.

"Yes, magic," she muttered. She glanced over her shoulder at Leto and shrugged. "What about it?"

Danarius backhanded her across the face. She fell in the muddy water and was forced to stand again. It didn't matter to her anymore what he did to her. He yelled at her for hiding it from him and when she argued back he socked her in the stomach. She gasped and fell to her knees. The onlookers stared at her while Anders had to be restrained by the other Wardens.

He couldn't take it anymore. He spied the blood spattering with the rain and when she lay on the ground motionless he feared that she was dead. Her fingers twitched slowly as she regained consciousness.

"Take her inside. Now!" the magister ordered. The guards picked her up and dragged her through the mud. Her head hung forward, but as she passed him she glanced up at him. "Well done, Leto. What boon would you like to receive?"

The elf looked down at Adria and then to his sister and mother.

"I want my sister and mother released from their bondage," he answered.


	14. Chapter 14

"_Why won't you give up, Adria?" Leto's voice asked over the crackle of burning wood._

"_Would you prefer I did? You want me to lie down and die? After everything I've done, you still think I'm that weak," she mocked._

_The elf's footsteps neared her and she could smell his sweat and breath. His worn hand caressed her cheek: from her chin to the blindfold that shielded her vision. _

"_Of course I don't want you to die. How long can you keep up with what they continue to do on a constant basis? I can't stand by and watch it anymore. You've withered and this façade you keep up for their appearances exerts more power on them. They are trying to break you and when they fail you infuriate them."_

"_I like the way it hurts, elf," she grumbled._

"_You're lying. You aren't protecting anyone anymore."_

"_I failed in that aspect again. You killed him. When I get out of here I'm going to kill you. Blood for blood."_

"_You really think you're getting out of here alive?"_

"_Why not? If I live: I keep their memories alive. If I die: I find the peace I've been aching…" He pressed his lips to hers and let the gentle sway of the chains sing a morose tune of sorrow. His hands searched her in patterns of rough excitement and desire. She pulled away from him with lips that quivered rapidly and she shuddered. "I wish you were real to me."_

_Control. Abandon it._

* * *

><p>He refused to go down into the dungeon. He couldn't see her. It was the last thing he wanted to watch. Her condition became the topic of many on the estate. She lived in a diminished capacity. Adria was slowly dying in a cold and confining prison. He never thought she would resort to using magic in front of Danarius, but with what he did, he couldn't help but feel slightly culpable for her outlandish reaction.<p>

He couldn't escape the stares from Hadriana and Danarius as they walked down the stairs to the deep dark. He always remained on the top step and listened to torture and tribulations. The crack of the whip made him wince with each repeated blow. He never heard a sound from her. Her chains jingled but an auditory response was never one that made it to his ears.

They taunted her and yelled. Hadriana laughed after the sound of a bone popping. The magister had refused her nourishment for days at a time and sent D'lara down only once or twice a day to hydrate her. The elven woman goaded her and mocked her subtle moans. She took her available chance at exacting her own punishments on the restrained woman.

Many a night he lay at Danarius' feet and looked at the empty pillow that was abandoned by his mistress' head. Her scent had faded into a daydream's fantasy. At some points of the day he heard her laughing, and on those same eves he heard her weeping. His fearfulness kept him away from the one he'd adored for so long. He knew that she'd probably still hate him for what happened to her brother. He couldn't help it. She knew the rules as much as any of them. Only one could leave victorious in that situation. Whether he had any real desire to release her from her servitude or the lives of the ones who bore and cared for him wasn't up for debate.

He owed it to his mother to let her exist as a free woman for once in her life. Her experience of what free air would feel and taste like should be his parting gift to her for all she had done for him. Adria, on the other hand, was out of reach for him to make such a statement. If she was sent away, he'd never see her again. Or would she be really willing to leave after everything? It was much easier to decide the fates of his loved ones than the one he lusted for.

He held the door ajar and listened to her. The rattle of her chains and the soft strains of her voice breaking through the darkness made his heart sink. She coughed between verses and broke the ambience of the vocals. The elf smiled when the dirge completed in a hoarse whisper. How the Maker could have given her such a gift in exchange for what she had to live with now was beyond him.

"What are you doing?" Hadriana snapped from behind him. She crossed her arms and sneered at Leto. He hoped that Adria would remain silent long enough for the woman to go away, but the subdued tones of her voice crept up the stairs to them. "She's singing? She was ordered to be silent," she bellowed and shoved the elf away from the door. Her footsteps softened the further down the stairs she went.

Finally she disappeared and the tone of soft chords turned to harsh inhales and hard smacks. Hadriana was doing a number on her, but Adria refused to bend to her. He took two steps and stopped at the sound of ripping material. There was a short exchange between the two women followed by another volley of strikes. Adria wretched and gagged and all went silent in seconds. He held his breath and strained to hear what was going on. Before he could gain any certainty as to the well-being of the prisoner Hadriana appeared with a satisfied expression on her face. "Get back upstairs! You have an early day ahead of you," she ordered with a snap of her fingers.

* * *

><p>Sleep evaded him like a faster prey that slithered into the ether. After what he'd saw and heard that afternoon, he had to see her. She had to know that he was still there. It took every ounce of courage to head for the door to the dungeons below. In his mind, flashes of horrific scenes played out in gory detail. He thought about everything that had been left unsaid and untested. Leto didn't care whether she was still angry about what transpired; he had to do it. He was nervous for the morning, what if he didn't survive it? The same haunting doubts flooded him as he unlatched the door and took the first of many steps down the dimly lit stairs.<p>

They were cold, damp and slick from the stagnated water that formed from musty air that refused to circulate. It was thick and humid when he reached the bottom. He searched the room and saw the table where Danarius did his sacrifices still caked in dried blood. It rotted and seeped into the grain of thick tabletop like the very veins that channeled his bodily fluids. His breath hitched when he saw her. She was knelt over her knees; hands bound behind her back and shackled to heavy chains that attached to the wall. He couldn't move any further. She appeared to be dead from where he stood.

"Maybe I'm too late," he muttered to himself. Her small hands twitched and he bolted to her uncontrollably. A relieved sigh escaped him. She yet lived and he thanked the Maker for it. He knelt down in front of her, his hands went to touch her, but hesitation and fear kept him from feeling her. Her breathing was shallow and undetectable. "Adria." He took her in and let the first touch of his fingertips hit her back. She cringed and muttered something. Her muffled voice came to him in waves of spite and venom.

Adria sat up, but her head hung low. She swayed gently in dizzying undulations. He took her chin in his hand and lifted her to look at him. She was gagged and blindfolded. Her white teeth dug into the dingy rag that wrapped around her head. Splotches of brown and red stained the yellowed cloth that restrained her from speaking. Her pale skin was a far shade brighter than it usually was. He slid his finger between her supple cheek and the rag and pulled it down. Blood smeared down her chin and caked her lips.

"Leto?" she breathed weakly. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you," he answered as he pulled the blindfold away from her eyes. She grimaced and recoiled from the onslaught of light that invaded her sight.

"Put it back on!" she yelped. He hurried to shield her eyes again and sighed in disappointment that he wouldn't get to look into her eyes again. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he murmured. "I have to tell you something and I might not get another chance to do it after tomorrow."

"What is it?" she questioned. She shifted her weight slowly and let out a sigh.

"That night that we…," he coughed nervously and looked away from her. "It shouldn't have happened. None of it should have played out the way it did. I was angry and hurt that you were with someone else. It was childish and stupid and it's my fault that everything that happened after that led to being here."

"Did it?" she scoffed. "Let me tell you something about what's been happening since _I _decided to put myself here. The night with Anders was innocent. I hadn't seen him in years and it was a fluke that I did get the chance to speak with him. Do I blame you for running away and dealing with that _knife-eared little bitch_? No. But what happened after that was a distorted attempt at revenge. I didn't conceive the whole idea by myself and I'm pretty sure it was Danarius' intention to begin with.

You were his first love long before I got here. There's no doubt in my mind about that. We both didn't want to lose you and it seems that our fears were misplaced. You rightfully won. I never wanted to use you like that and I had hoped that one day - in the far off future – that maybe I'd be able to partake in you freely. Those nights still haunt me. The caresses that led us further down the verboten path." Her voice cracked as she spoke and new spots of red bled through the blindfold. She sniffled and whooped as she violently inhaled. It gurgled and rumbled with moist fluids backing it up. He patted her back comfortingly and noted the blood stained bandages that enveloped both of her hands.

"What have they been doing to you?" he uttered.

"Using my own blood against me," she snorted. "Every day it's something new with them; whether it's the beating and rapes from Danarius and Hadriana or your girlfriend taking the reins and exacting her own form of torture on me it doesn't change the fact that _I_ did you wrong.

What happened to Carver was unforeseeable. It hurt in ways you couldn't imagine. I figured it was your retribution for what happened the night before, but I was wrong. Everything was horribly wrong that day. And we have to live with that. I'm not asking for forgiveness. I never wanted that. I'm proud that you succeeded in your task and that your mother and sister will be free."

He wanted her to stop talking and just listen. These were his words that he should have been saying but the way she shuddered in his hands made her more vulnerable than ever. He'd never seen such weakness in her. Her exposition of her thoughts and feelings were laid out before him like an intricate map with no real destination.

"I would have forsaken my life if it meant you would be free," he said.

His thumb brushed her lips and felt her hot breath escape her.

"Take it off," she murmured.

"Take what off?"

"The blindfold. Take it off." His eyes narrowed on the cloth as his thumb caught it. He stopped and in his anxiousness withdrew his hand. He didn't want to hurt her again. Her shrill voice echoed in his ears. "It'll be alright."

He peeled the blindfold back and let her adjust again. Adria's eyes fluttered rapidly to the bright light and shut all together. After several minutes her eyes squinted and there he saw them; the same fires that always burned. She was still alive in spirit. He couldn't control himself anymore. He pulled her close to him and kissed her. Their tongues danced and he experienced what it was like to delve into her being with wanton disregard for their master. He held her close and placed her head to his chest. She began to cry. She shook against him and in a small way he died as he embraced her.

"Adria." The soft weeping stopped as she nuzzled into him. "Tomorrow is the ritual." She looked up at him. Her cheeks ran small streams of red that dripped to the floor between them. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I will be here for you afterwards no matter what. Danarius shouldn't be holding you too much longer. He's starting to miss you. You'll be back by his side in no time. It's where you should be. Not in this pit. Not bound in chains and left to fester alone. And I will be right there to take care of you like I always have."

"I understand."

He kissed her again and sighed heavily.

"I need to get back upstairs. I will be back to see you tonight."

He slid the blindfold back over her eyes and mourned the loss of not being able to look into them again till that night. He began to place the gag back in her mouth when she pulled away.

"Leto, I…"

"I know. And I for you."

He slipped the rag between her lips and gave her a final kiss on the cheek. He rose up and started for the stairs and away from her. He didn't want to leave her alone, not like this. He gave her a final look over and shook his head in sorrow. Neither of them could say the words. They were imprisoned deep within them. They didn't want to be left so exposed when it would have been the most natural thing for both of them.

* * *

><p>"It's not going to be that much longer," Danarius said. His eyes fixated on the number of magisters that hurried around the large room. Leto shivered at the cold air. The blue iridescent glow in large flasks lit the stone work on the floor. The pungent aroma of sweat invaded his nostrils leaving him to believe that this place was so much more than he first perceived it to be.<p>

This ritual, or rite, seemed to be a far cry from what Danarius had tried to describe. He stood in the room in his undergarments and felt the magister's hand come down on him with care and affection. He was trying to ebb his trepidation, but it failed. There was no escaping it now. His thoughts lingered on Adria, still bound and leashed like an animal. Deprived of light and sight. She had looked so frail under the orangish glow of the firelight that when he looked at her she was a ghost.

A hooded magister in flowing robes approached the men. He held out a long blade and presented it to his master with a ceremonial bow. He knew it was time. The way the magisters encircled a single point in the room. He looked to Danarius for what to do. It was a frightful presentation. They chanted and poured the liquid into a small pool in the center of the room. It burned brightly and crackled and boiled as they stirred it.

"What am I to do?"

"Follow me," Danarius said.

He led the boy to a rack just beside the men speaking in their foreign and muffled tongues and shackled him to chains suspended high above. Leto didn't fight. He was confused. What did being tied down have to do with anything? They masked him and told him that it was for his protection.

His answer came with quick and penetrating slashes across his legs. Danarius carved him to ribbons while another magister approached and collected the blood into an urn. He felt like he was being bled dry by him. Was he being murdered for any particular reason? Maybe he found out about his secret rendez-vous with Adria. If it was the latter what would happen to her?

Hot fluid spattered his face as he reeled in agony. He writhed and bucked the deeper the blade sunk into his flesh. He was hot and cold. He smoldered with anger and irrational thoughts burst through as he swore that he would kill Danarius. The magister laughed maniacally as he worked. Surgical precision and dexterity led the finely made grooves to his torso.

He turned his head and vomited as his whole body seized under the stress. He convulsed and foamed at the mouth. He couldn't speak. He couldn't scream. The only sound that he emitted was the gurgling that had rested in his throat. Danarius continued to work; paying no attention to the noises that were being produced.

He went black and came to in spurts of mania. Someone had a firm grasp on his head. He struggled and felt the sliver and slide of a wet blade cutting into his face. He groaned and moaned until the blade was finally retracted.

"Adria," he murmured.

The fresh slices of flesh split and gushed when his mouth moved.

"What about her?" Danarius asked.

"She needs to be free."

"She will be. Don't worry," the magister said softly.

He was lifted into the air and felt the harsh boiling liquid hit his skin. He was being submerged in it. His back screamed as his flesh burned and sloughed off. He was melting.

_I'm going to die._

"He needs to be further into the lyrium," Danarius snapped.

He could see the glow piercing his eye protection and smell it. It was strange and hinted of magic. Magic. They were using it on him. He flailed as his head sunk beneath the molten liquid. He tried to hold his breath, but his energy waned faster with the exhaustion setting in. He wanted to die. He wished he had. Everything was fading. His heart beat was slowing. He hoped that it would stop.

_What about…_

…_that girl…_

_What girl?_

_I'm not certain._

_Who am I? _

_I. Don't. Know._

* * *

><p>A warm sliver of metallic moved under her chin and jolted Adria from her slumber. She could barely move from the atrophy of her arms and legs and the weight of her head left her chin buried in her chest. She was suffocating from her stagnated position. Her knees throbbed from the prolonged grinding into the stone. She couldn't see in the perpetual blackness. Her senses went into overdrive to replace the missing sensation. It was frigid in the depths of the dungeons. She welcomed the fading warmth of metal as it joined the rest of the ambient temperatures that surrounded her.<p>

The metal of her manacles dug into her flesh like teeth from a rabid hound. Warm liquid quelled quickly into an icy stream of fluid that vanished into the darkness. She was fatigued both physically and mentally. Her stomach, empty for days, had shrank and purged even the smallest sips of water she was allowed. She greeted death, accepting it for what it was: an end to all things that had tormented her.

Her gag was forcefully removed from her lips, leaving her cracked lips bleeding.

"You seem well enough," Hadriana muttered.

Her smell was far more intoxicating than the musty smell of rotting granite and stagnate water. Adria licked her lips, still tasting old blood from newly created wounds. Her eyes rolled in her head when she tried to chuckle, but stopped short of coughing up blood. The heavy wrapping that shielded her eyes stood fast. She was vertiginous and wretched violently when the world refused to stop spinning. The taste of bile crept into her throat and invaded her olfactory as she swallowed hard with her parched throat.

"Come to visit me again," she whispered with a harsh smirk. "I thought you had done your worst to me."

"Is that what you think this is about?" the woman snapped as the point of the sharpened steel dug deeper into her throat.

"You're not going to break me, Hadriana. Do your worst," Adria spat.

She feigned a smile and her head hit her chest again.

"I'm not here to hassle you, Adria. I'm here because Danarius sent me," the woman said.

"Why?" the semi-conscious woman remarked as she lifted her head.

"On the contrary, he doesn't have it in his heart to kill you. He thinks that you being down here doesn't do you justice. He wants you back at his side."

She could hear her pacing along with a pair of bare feet entering the room. She could smell the woodsy aroma of Leto as he walked past and gripped the chain that had bound her in place.

"Is that so?" Adria snorted.

"It is. Look I don't agree with this, but he thinks he has a way of curbing your abilities."

"Curbing them? You mean like tranquility?" Adria said with a frown.

"No. I'm not at liberty to say. All I can say is that I am going to enjoy watching what he does to you," the woman's cold tone sent a shiver up the weakened woman's spine.

"It'd be far cheaper to kill me don't you think?" she grumbled as the shackle was released from her around her bony wrist.

"What do you think he's going to do to you?" Hadriana remarked with a malevolent tone. "We have a friend who wants to see you."

"Is it Leto? Did he survive the ritual?" Adria fired off quickly with exuberance.

"Go ahead and take the blindfold off of her," the woman commanded.

The shock of bright light turned the bodies into shadows. She slammed her eyes shut. They burned like the flames of the holy brazier in the Chantry. She wanted to rub away the burning and met with heavy resistance from her restraints.

"How long have I been here," Adria asked through teary eyes.

"Weeks," Hadriana answered.

Her eyes adjusted and saw the lithe shadow of an elf standing over her. The stale smell of leather and steel hit her and she muttered in disgust. It transformed that favored smell of her companion into a heavily wreaked mess.

She lifted her eyes up with curiosity. Her heart was going a mile a minute. She was so glad to see that he was alright. Horror took hold when the bright sheen of white hair hid his more defining features. This wasn't Leto.

_Who the hell is this?_

"That's not Leto," Adria grumbled.

"No. This is Fenris," Danarius stated as he came into the room.

"What happened to Leto? Where is he?" the woman demanded as she tried to stand.

The elf slammed his hand on to her shoulder and forced her back to her knees. He raised the sword to her throat again and glared.

"It's alright, Adria. Everything will come to light in due time." He turned to Hadriana and nodded. "Get her up and ready. She has a date that she can't afford to miss."

* * *

><p>She had to be carried to their destination. Under the cover of darkness they met with Master Danarius and other magisters that were preparing for the ritual. They laid her on her stomach on a table of metal and shackled her wrists. She was outstretched and bare for all the world to see.<p>

"Are you alright, my dear," Danarius cooed just above her.

"I'm confused," Adria groaned.

"About Fenris? He's alright. He spent a couple days in recovery, but he seems to be adjusting just fine."

"Is he now? That's not Leto. What did you do to him?"

She glared at the elf that loomed just off in the shadows. The heavy sword hung at his side. She could barely see him. He looked like Leto, but that wasn't the one who had been there for her for all those years. This was someone new. A stranger and one she didn't like.

"Hush, darling. It won't matter afterwards anyway," he whispered in her ear.

"Afterwards?"

"Master Danarius, we're ready," a voice called.

"Splendid," the magister said with an unsettling lilt in his voice.

"Do you want to put her under for this?" the mysterious voice asked.

She felt her master's hand on her back. He was tracing different patterns across her bare skin on her shoulder blade.

"No. She'll be alright," Danarius remarked. He slid a thick piece of wood between her teeth. "You'll need that, my love."

She gave a muffled 'why' and felt a cold sharp instrument cut into her skin. She groaned as hot blood flowed down the side and on to the table. Her teeth clenched against the foreign object. Her eyes searched the room through cloudy tears. Her vision was going red and all she thought while a thick finger slithered between her flesh and muscles was: where was Leto?

The digit wiggled and more agony consumed her. She was hazy while they worked her body. Chanting echoed around the room. It was a strange dialect from what she'd learned. Certain words she could make out barely. _"Bind… restrict… damage."_ All of them put together were not a good sign. Adria couldn't take it anymore. They closed her deepened wound and searing hot metal caused her to spit the bit out of her mouth.

She wailed as the smell of burnt flesh entered her senses.

"Make it stop!" she screamed.

"It's almost over," Danarius stated.

"Damn you, Danarius," she breathed as she began to lose consciousness.

"Don't worry, my dear. After this: everything will be the way it should be," he cooed. "Rest."

Her eyelids grew heavy. The pain didn't stop. She couldn't fight it and in bouts of anger and hatred she sobbed. She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to be released. She begged and bargained, but her words fell on deaf ears. She gave the elf a final look before conceding her will into the hands of her master.

He had made it into the light. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword and watched as they unshackled her and rolled her over. She was numb, but her eyes never left the elf and his shocking white hair that hid his eyes.

_The eyes. O, Maker! I know those eyes. Why isn't he doing anything? I can't take much more of this. Please, Leto. Make them stop. Why do you look at me like that? Don't you know who I am? Remember what we said? The experiences we shared?_

She couldn't bear to look at him anymore. It killed her to see those blank eyes unmoved by her struggles. Danarius placed his hand over her eyes and shielded her from what was about to happen. The room went black. Ringing shrieked in her head and then nothing.

_Control abandoned._


	15. Chapter 15

She wasn't like any other slave he'd met in the compound. She was worldly, stubborn, and adorned in finery that would make the richest magisters envious at the cost. She was admired harshly by those that served Danarius. He was unaware by how much power she wielded in her words when she spoke to the others. She was kind to most and pitiless to few. Hadriana was the only other person who asserted as much will as she did. It was an odd prospect for him to take in.

He knew she was a slave by the branded markings that were seared into her flesh in flecks of white and red. The obscure dialect and symbols that encircled the runes gave the same faint shimmer as his markings had. Regardless, she was unlike anything he'd seen before. He questioned himself about her apparent reason to be here. Her accent was strange and not of the Imperium. Listening to her speak to Danarius was like listening to a poem that held a cloistered message within.

He didn't know what to make of her when she glanced at him with hurt filled eyes. His eyes followed her from one end of the room to the other. He remained unnoticed for as long as he could, until she neared the magister seated in the arm chair beside him. She knelt at his side and rested her head in his lap and closed her eyes. He could only watch as their master began to unbind her from the form fitting gown. He lifted her on to his lap and kissed the nape of her neck. He slid his hands beneath her bodice and she moaned softly.

Fenris grew angry. Irrational feelings that had no place being evoked by her had held him in place. He knew that Danarius had called for the fragile woman and that was why she was there, but for him to witness his master manipulate her body in such a way was unsettling. He turned his attention to the fires that burned in the hearth. The way they danced and lapped at the masonry in strokes of unbridled hunger didn't help in his escape. Her cries grew louder and the frustration had become a raging inferno of anger. He forbade himself from taking action. It wasn't his place to stop it.

_What is this?_

He was undecided by the manifestation of emotions. They weren't necessary for the situation and his blood boiled with fire within his veins. He refused to let her get to him. It was his duty, his right to be who he was.

She rested her head on Danarius' shoulder and locked eyes on him. The magister was panting rapidly in his seat. His arms wrapped around her as he held her in place. More rumblings from within made him frantic. Was she deliberately doing this to irritate him or was it as simple as doing what she was made to do?

His response came one stormy night as he paced the sparsely decorated room. Free of the collar he wore during his waking hours, he rubbed the sore spots on his shoulders and neck. He frustrated, confused by this woman with eyes that could drill through stone with but a single glance. It was disturbing to think that he could have some semblance of reality that marked his thoughts about a woman who belonged to another.

It was unheard of and deceitful. He was betraying the person he owed everything to. She never spoke to him, only acknowledged him with her eyes. He couldn't recall her name. It was something that evoked emotion, but not his own. It was something that made his breath hitch uncontrollably when she entered a room. This mysterious woman was the key to all the answer that he dare not utter even to himself.

The door swung open and Hadriana stood in the threshold. She glared at the elf with deadly intent as she moved toward him. Her slippers squeaked as she grabbed him and shoved him out of the room. She led him down the corridor and past Danarius' room. One of the slaves saw the two of them going down the stairs and dropped a pile of linens to the floor.

"We're going to have a bit of fun this evening since Danarius is indisposed at the moment. Dearest Adria is making use of what the Maker gave her," she muttered grimly.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she unlocked the door to a narrow hallway that led into an alcove.

"You'll see. I've waited patiently for Danarius to give me the approval I needed to continue my studies," she stated. "Get on the table and prepare for what it feels like to have someone holding your life in your hands."

* * *

><p>Adria slid through the barely open door and latched it as quietly as she could. The noise sounded deafening in the dead of night. She held her breath and waited to see if Danarius was going to pursue her for leaving the room again. When nothing transpired, she slowly exhaled and headed down the hallway.<p>

Fenris' door was wide open, but was strangely vacant given the time that it was. She stepped in and looked around and saw his weapon leaned against the wall. She had never been in the closet-like space before. The bed had been unused. The tray of food that she had sent to him was absent. A quick glance at the door told her why:

_This slave is not to receive nourishment for the duration I deem appropriate- Hadriana_

"Bitch," Adria muttered as she shut the door and ripped the note from the wood.

"Mistress Adria," a voice called out of breath.

She turned in the direction of the voice and saw one of the young elven slaves running up to her.

"Calm yourself. What's wrong?"

"It's Hadriana. She took Fenris down to her study. I think she's going to do something to him," the lass gasped. She bent down and coughed violently.

"I'll see to it," Adria assured her.

"Mistress, you need to hurry. She had been gloating about it all day," the elf warned.

"Don't worry. What's the worst that could happen?"

She hurried down the stairs and through the opened door. She was panting when she threw open the door and saw Fenris strapped to a table in the center of the room. Hadriana was nowhere in sight as she ran to the elf's side. Adria fought with the metal restraints but couldn't pry them apart. Her hands became slick with sweat as she continued to work.

A sinking feeling hit her as she looked down at Fenris. He wasn't speaking to her at all. He was glued to someone else. She turned to see Hadriana standing behind her. She sprung up and blocked the woman's view of Fenris.

"Come to watch the show?" Hadriana smirked.

"Release him. Now," Adria snapped.

"I didn't just bind him just to undo it when you order me to," Hadriana growled. She cuffed the defiant woman and shoved her aside. "I've had just about enough of your talking back."

"I will not be complicit in your sadist experiments, witch!"

"It's not like you can stop me. As a matter of fact, let's see if what Danarius said was true."

The room became frigidly cold. Adria saw her breath as Hadriana incanted loudly. The air swirled around the three of them. The smell was ozone and ice. Frost grew on the shackles that bound Fenris. She darted to release him before the mage released her spell.

Her body grew hot. Fire crept through her core and hit her brain in waves of agonizing tremors. Her knees buckled as they weakened under her weight. She grabbed her head to keep it from splitting in two. The room spun and flickered out while Fenris' screams echoed in the confined space. Another blow landed against her. She struggled to stay conscious. A crack of lightning shot through the air…

* * *

><p><em>Three children giggling in noon time sun. Heavenly laughter and peace. A woman wiping her hands on her apron with a smile. A man running up behind them laughing. Small shadows chased their every move.<em>

* * *

><p>A stir of echoes awoke her from her catatonic state. Her head was cradled gently in someone's lap. She sniffed the air, burnt hair and flesh, and felt liquid slide into her sinuses. She brought her hand to her face and in her hazy state smeared the fluid across her finger. Red cut through the fog like a knife. Hands held her down when she tried to move. The hard stone burrowed into her hips. She was cold and shivered as the heat was sucked from her.<p>

"Damn it, Hadriana," Danarius voice scowled in anger. "She wasn't ready. It was too soon."

"I'm sorry, Master Danarius. I didn't think she would react so strongly."

"Do you have any idea what you could have done?"

"What happened?" Adria mumbled.

"It's alright," Danarius muttered softly. "Try to rest. You had an accident."

"An accident?"

Adria sat up and shook the dizzying whirling away.

"Yes. Fenris, take Adria up to bed. I will be shortly."

Fenris bowed silently and held her by the arm out of the room. She staggered along as she tried to hold on to the flashes of pictures that had rushed through her mind. It seemed like such a long time ago that such memories had surfaced for her. She had nearly forgotten the good times that had preceded her servitude. Every cherished moment had been burned asunder with the passing years. Self-doubt and loathing had destroyed everything that had bound her to her former life. The reminiscence of family struck a chord that tied her to her past.

Now she had no one. And as much as she hated to admit it: Danarius was the closest thing she had now.

_Maker, I hate that man._

* * *

><p><em>Six months later…<em>

She looked at her hands. The deep crevices interlaced with pink scars were intricate lines of a tale carved in blood, steel and flesh. Her failings and tribulations that remained as a constant vestige hung over her with sharpened talons; always lurking and waiting for the one instance of weakness. Her faltering and hesitation resulted in the loss of those she cared about. She had turned her back on so much and resigned it to memory of what was not to be foresworn.

Her fingers adorned in gold bands and chains flashed in the fading daylight. The last embers of the summer solstice were snuffed out by lavender shades that melted into bittersweet fire. Strength was her only saving grace. She would not go out without a whimper and forfeit all that she had managed to salvage. She knew she'd get by if she closed herself off, avoided the trouble of being put out in terms of affection when it came to the deaths of those she had relied on; but the wherewithal came with heavy strings.

The jingle of a barbed chain moving towards her as it scrapped across the path. It was the oppressive tone she had come to dread. That elf that had replaced the one person she had a shred of respect for was approaching at the swift movements that Danarius had set for him. It was an argument of integrity. Leto died and in his shadow were the inside out remnants of who was left. Somewhere deep within him, held at bay by hindrance and injustice, was the hallowed remains of a long buried past.

"There you are. I figured I'd find you watching the day's end," Danarius said as he puffed.

Sweat trickled down his face and matted his hair in a ragged fashion. She lifted her eyes to him and smiled sweetly. It faded to nothing at the glances that appeared from over the large collar. The green eyes that studied her as she shifted uncomfortably kept her from rising from the bench. He was unsettling and foreboding. He scared her with his blank stares and threatening stances. He was a living weapon that struck fear into those that saw him.

The more he scanned her the more her heart quickened into the fluttering of a hummingbird's during the spring thaw. She swallowed her pride and smirked. He couldn't do anything to her as long as Danarius kept him under control.

"I'm sorry you couldn't find me, Master Danarius," she said gently.

"It's nothing. I'm sorry I missed it. The Senate is in a state of chaos at the moment. I simply couldn't get away," he explained. He plopped down beside her and took her hand in his. "How was your day?"

"Not as eventful as yours," she chortled. "Hadriana came by. Bossed people around. Threatened them and left."

"Is that all? That was a good day for her," Danarius stated with a chuckle. "She's stressed now. Her apprenticeship is ending. She'll be a magister soon enough."

"Maybe doing that will remove the stick from her ass as a rite of passage," Adria grumbled.

A hard slap landed across her cheek. She fell to the ground at Danarius' feet. The stinging flesh made her eyes burn with tears. It was sudden and unprovoked and left her startled and wounded. The magister hadn't lifted a hand to her in the months following her ritual. The correction was one she deserved. She knew she toed the line with Danarius before but in this case she had made a leap across it without processing her thoughts first.

"Don't ever say anything like that about your betters," he admonished her as he raised his hand to punish her again.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I was out of line. Please forgive me."

She grabbed his hand and held it tightly to her bosom. The stern glare softened and his hand lowered. He reached into the pouch on his belt and withdrew a soft white handkerchief. The fine stitched cloth slid through her fingers as he handed it to her. His fingers slithered from her grasp and lingered as their tips touched.

"Make sure she cleans herself up, Fenris. We want her presentable," the magister ordered to the elf as he handed the chain to the kneeling woman. He headed back for the estate and left the two slaves together in an awkward silence.

Adria dabbed the corners of her eyes and looked at the red stains on the virgin white material. It had become a recurring event with her. She tired of the blood that materialized with her tears. The whole act was a lasting reminder of her torture. There was no way to fix it and ideas of Danarius' pleasure of having it happen as a memento for her past transgressions were the most tangible for her to grasp at.

An armored hand hovered in front of her. The cold and unfeeling metal clinked as the joints moved. She placed the bloodied cloth in his hand without a word. He tilted his hand at an angle and let the stained rag fall to the ground like a leaf on a calm autumn's day. She glanced at it and averted her eyes from the stares that were cast down at her. The articulations of his gauntlet moved slowly. Adria examined the intricate details of his tattoos that snaked from the complex workings of his armor to the defined musculature of his arms. She stopped at the large neckpiece that hid his defined elven features. Moss eyes peered over the rim of his collar.

"I'm alright," Adria insisted coldly.

Fenris didn't retract his offer. He never uttered a word to her just regarded her with polite intentions. She shook her head and sighed. She took his hand and hoisted herself up. He placed his hand on her back to steady her. Pin pricks coursed through her as the chilled armor rode the small bumps of her spine.

He set the chain in her hand and closed it lightly so as not to injure her from the barbs that protruded from the links. She looked to her hand and the slightly larger one enclosed around hers. She cocked her head and met his gaze. His eyes were urgent and uncompromising.

"I can't, Fenris. You don't belong to me," she muttered softly.

She tried to let go of the leash but his hand clenched tighter around her fist. She winced as the edges of metal dug into her fingers. He yanked the chain forward and argued with glares that she lead him inside.

"Please don't make me do this," she pleaded.

She looked away from him and hid the apprehension that was building in her. It was a turmoil that couldn't be resisted even if she fought it. He was everything that she dared not see. His existence was one that became a symbol of her nemesis; the scourge that was her mission, unadulterated hatred and disquiet which eradicated her very reason for mourning Leto. It was too soon for her to accept this stranger as anything but the replacement of the one who held her sanity.

* * *

><p>Her scent was mystifying and faint in the summer's dusky breeze. Her essence flashed hints that left more questions than answers for him. The thunder of drums grew louder as they neared the opened double doors. His hand remained steadfast around hers. She was shaky and weak the closer they got to the heated beats and bass. Strings wafted their strains of exultant grandeur. Applause broke out at the end of the piece, but the haunting tones continued in close proximity. It followed their every step picking up the staccato intonation with loving care. He glanced at her and snuck a smile. She was humming softly to herself. She peered at him sheepishly and he turned and focused ahead.<p>

_Thank the Maker for this blasted collar._

They neared the main hall. His breath caught in his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He was suffocating. He wasn't ready for what was about to happen. She had no idea what lay ahead before the end of the night. Being by Danarius' side had certain perks to it, but he couldn't speak to her. It didn't feel right. He didn't want to sound stupid in front of her. The way she looked at him sometimes, they were the eyes of an accuser.

Yet now he felt his hands growing cold. His body tingled as he gave a final reassuring squeeze.

"Why are we stopping?" she asked.

He pointed with his eyes for her to continue. She had to keep going under her own power. He reluctantly slid his armored hand from her smaller fist. He blinked at her slowly and nodded for her to proceed. Her head drooped and an audible sigh escaped her. He placed his hand on her shoulder just long enough for her to notice his stares.

"I know," she muttered. "Chain too?"

He bowed in agreement and ushered her down the hall. The chain rocked between them until the movement stopped. She clutched it tighter and stepped through the threshold of the grand hall. Danarius greeted her with a gently kiss to the cheek.

He smirked at her as the magister led them around and introduced her to the other party-goers. She looked nervous and unaware as to why all of these magisters were there. She kept looking over her shoulder at him for the answer. How he wished he could give it to her. She had every right to know what was to take place, even though he didn't know the scale or complexity that would be brought to the forefront of everyone in attendance.

_You don't even know her._

_I would like to._

_How can you be so flippant about this?_

_She doesn't deter me from what I'm supposed to do._

_Don't be crass. Look at her, perched upon Danarius' arm like an ornament._

_It is her role._

_And yours is becoming diluted by thinking of going where even the Gods would fear to tread._

_I have it under control._

_Really? Why do you watch her like you do?_

_I'm not._

_You are. It's safer to keep your distance in this case. She could kill you with a single look._

_She does that anyways. Every curious glance, it's like ignoring the flame and walking into an inferno that is insurmountable._

_Don't say I didn't warn you._


	16. Chapter 16

"What are you doing?" Adria muttered under her breath to Danarius.

The magister smirked as two guards brought in a slave. The male panicked and thrashed when he stood in front of Fenris. They handed him a sword and left him to face the armed elf across the room from him. Magisters murmured within the group and pointed to both combatants. They were as clueless as she was as to the point of this demonstration.

The man whimpered and dropped the sword to the ground and started to flee. Danarius stepped in his path and the slave skid to a stop in front of him.

"Get back in there," he warned. His eyes narrowed on the small elven man and pushed him to pick up the fallen blade again. He was the grand master of this ceremony. He reveled in the attention and fear that the upcoming battle would bring forth. Adria sipped her wine and crossed her arms. She knew this act; it was one he'd pulled before. She wasn't amused and from what she could tell neither were the lords and women that stood around with confused looks on their faces. "As you have all heard I have created something far greater than your typical warrior: a living weapon that suits my requirements and desires. The perfect bodyguard and fighter." He nodded for Hadriana to remove the collar from off of Fenris. "A demonstration on the skill of this elf is one that I have waiting to show all of you."

He took a step back from the men and gave a final glare to the quivering elf.

"Have at him," Hadriana ordered.

Adria nearly dropped the goblet to the floor as Fenris became blue. It was something she'd never seen before. The men in the room spoke amongst themselves in amazement. She was intrigued and pushed her way to the front and near Danarius. He looked down at her with a satisfied smirk and resumed to watch as Fenris darted toward the cowering elf. He yelped and flung the sword at him.

"Maker, help this poor fool," Adria muttered with a shake of her head.

Fenris was like lightning as he darted in a flash to the other side. A blur and phantom that disappeared and reappeared just as quickly. He was a blue flame that didn't burn out and lyrium wreaked the air. It was unmistakable. He withdrew his blade and swung it slicing the air and sending the slave on to his back. He was panicked and horrified. He babbled and begged and apologized for doing anything. He lifted the blade over his head and glanced at Adria out of the corner. She shook her head in dismay and buried her face in Danarius' sleeve. He had the eyes of a killer. Cold and unfeeling, lifeless.

She heard the gasp of the audience and the blood curdling gurgle escape from the man. She peeked from around the magister's velvety sleeve. He patted her hand gently and pulled her close to him. What her eyes fell on was a perplexity. Fenris had the man up in the air. His fingers were submerged into his chest. Blood trickled down his gauntlet and streamed to the floor. The man turned his head and looked at Adria. He was muttering something to her.

Her eyes grew wide as the image of the man's face contorted into her father's. That memory still burned into her brain after all this time. She thought she had forgotten. His face was just as clear as the last time she had seen him. She tried to hide her pain at reliving that night again.

"Hurry and finish him," Danarius barked.

Fenris looked at the two of them and a subtle tremor of muscle made the man shake. His head fell back and he was limp. He tossed the flaccid body to the side. A sickening suction sound erupted as his hand disengaged from the man's torso. His hand was coated red and stringy tissues hung on his gauntlet. He approached her and glanced remorsefully. The blue emanations faded away like they were being absorbed back within him.

Adria looked around the room at the stun witnesses. They didn't know what to make of it. It was new, terrifying and perfect. They were elated by the show of power that this meek looking elf carried. The erupted in applause and whistles. Adria was disgusted by it. It was defeating to watch and know that Fenris had committed cold-blooded murder at the whim of Danarius.

"Was that satisfactory," he questioned.

She caught a glimpse of him looking at her. She knew how he felt. He wasn't proud of what happened either. But it was their master's will and he did what he was told. It didn't make it better and was made all the worse by the subtle gravel in his voice and the subjugated look in his eye.

Danarius took her wine glass from her and handed it to a passing slave.

"You're next," he whispered in her ear.

"Me? Why me?" she yelped.

"Don't worry, my dear. Nothing will come to pass," he assured her with a loving pat to the back.

He pointed his finger at Hadriana and Fenris left and took his place by the woman's side. The magister led her to the center of the room and frowned. The room was abuzz with spectators murmuring in curiosity as to what he had planned next. He raised his hand and the room grew still. Their attention was dedicated to the showman and his courtesan. Her hair fell in her face and cut her view in half.

* * *

><p>He was fixated on her. The black dress that skimmed the floor and the tight hugging bodice that gave her curves an accentuated exoticness, made her already porcelain skin reflect the shimmer from the lights above. Hadriana held him by the arm. His hand was chilled by the bodily fluids that still dripped from the metal. He shook it slowly off and waited for what Danarius had to say.<p>

Adria looked over at him and smiled weakly. He was disconnected by her. The witch's words became buzzing in his ears. She couldn't be real. It had to be a fantasy. No one so enchanting could ever exist in such a dangerous place. Yet this blossoming flower failed to wither and thrived in the darkness that she had been thrust into.

"If you can, take her out," Hadriana muttered with a smug look on her face.

"As you say, Mistress," Fenris grumbled.

"For those you who were here for that debacle involving Adria a few months back, you will remember that certain things came to light that I never foresaw." He shot a spiteful look at the woman on his arm and cleared his throat. "I've been working on something in the interim of those events. For my fellow magisters here I bring you the power to control those under you with the leash of their own making."

"Go and get her, elf," Hadriana ordered.

* * *

><p>She picked the finely made blade off the floor and looked at it before glaring at the elf. She had no idea how to use one, but it was worth giving it a shot. They stared each other down. Both squinted and frowned.<p>

"What do you want me to do?" Adria questioned as the elf bore down on her.

"Anything you like, my dear," Danarius suggested with a grin.

She sighed and sized up Fenris. She gauged the distance between them and muttered to herself. The warrior went on the offensive. He charged her gouging a large path through the hardwood. He sprang into the air and brought the sword down in front her. An intentional miss. He was posturing and trying to knock her off balance.

"Don't you dare go all glowy on me," she snapped as she brought the sword up and swung it flippantly.

"For you? Not a chance," he smirked as he sliced through the air. "But you _do _need to put up some sort of fight."

"I'm sorry my swordsmanship isn't up to par with yours," she snorted.

Their swords clashed. His blade slid down hers and they locked hilts. He pressed into her and sent her to the floor. Her weapon flew from her hand and disappeared behind her. Audible gasps erupted as Fenris lifted the blade to strike her down. Her eyes darted from side to side and then at the elf with the blank expression on his face. He was studying her to see what she would do.

She couldn't think. Everything was happening too fast.

"Stop!" she yelped.

He began to lower the weapon. It was her chance to put some space between them. She flung her foot up and kicked him in the groin. He dropped the sword behind him and staggered back. Adria scurried to her feet and time froze. He was enraged by the assault. He coughed and sputtered and regained some of his dignity in no time. She had to resort to one thing and one thing only. The last card she could play in the game they were competing in.

She didn't want to do it. She couldn't. It had been awhile since she'd cast a spell of any type. She had lost the will to do so. It wasn't going to save her now. She lifted her hand in front of her and slammed her eyes shut.

The sound of crackling burst from her and hit the elf in the chest. Her head throbbed and she yelled as she fell to the floor. She felt like she was going to split in two. Her body convulsed violently. Heart palpitations and the sudden cessation of all breathing forced her into a downward spiral. She flopped and gasped and with everything in her grinding to a halt she wept.

She felt her body giving way to the black and saw herself standing in the Fade. She was alone amongst the mutated flora and swirling clouds that spawned from the lyrium. She could smell it in the air like a calm day's promenade.

_You need to get up. Get up. Get up. Get up! Get! Up!_

She felt blood in her mouth. She rolled to her knees and spat the metallic and sweet liquid from her mouth. Strings of sanguine and foam dripped from her lips. She heaved and wretched intensely. Her vision was bleary with white dots that circled around in patterns.

She shot a glare at Danarius. The pain was exquisite and tore her body to shreds. She crawled on her hands and knees towards him. She clutched the hem of his gown and implored for him to end it. He kicked her off, flipping her on to her back. She laid on the floor and saw Fenris getting to his feet. He shook his head and looked at the scorch marks on his armor.

"You too?" he growled.

"Aye, me too," she muttered. Her vision was still hazy as he started again towards her. She started again to whisper something. She just wanted him to go away. Leto would never have done this. When she attacked him he just blocked in defense. This person. This thing was in no way shape or from the person she had known.

She fell to her knees and hung her head. If he was going to kill her: so be it. It was better this way. Maybe then…

"_Everything you do and don't do- even magic- is based on emotions. If you can control that then you will control all the forces that remain in constant imbalance," her father stated._

"_Does that mean people too," she asked with large green eyes._

"_Never people. You don't have the right to choose what people do. You have the right to choose what you do about it," he knelt in front of her and held her hands. "For better or for worse."_

* * *

><p>She wouldn't move. She wouldn't fight. He slowed and saw the blood stains on the floor. He was sure they were from the man he killed, but the way they continued to grow from drips that fell from her, it was she that was injured.<p>

He heard her screaming and wondered why of all people would she be the one in pain. He was the one that had a spell cast at him. His heart raced in aggravation. She was no different from Danarius or Hadriana. She put up little resistance in attacking him. She didn't have to do it, but now she was on her knees and muttering for him to cast the killing blow.

"I would gladly do it, witch," he snarled.

"Then do it!" she barked.

He couldn't believe it. She was conceding. Of all the manipulative things she could have done, this was the lowest and most cowardly thing he'd ever seen. It was suicide. He couldn't do it. Not to a woman who was begging him to take her life. She peered up at him with a wide-eyed hopelessness. She could have brought him to his own knees if she ordered him to do it. Every fiber told him to swing, but in his head his conscience told him to retreat and cast aside the hatred.

_I won't kill her, but I won't trust her._

_Fair enough._

"Damn it," he muttered.

He'd seen her like that before. Forfeiting everything. Her small body quivering. Where had he seen it? He couldn't remember where. It was like déjà vu in a world where everything was a constant. Nothing ever changed or ended.

"That's enough, Fenris," Danarius said as he intervened between the two of them. "Go back to Hadriana."

* * *

><p>"Are you alright?" the magister asked, picking her up off the floor.<p>

"What did you do to me?" Adria snapped still trying to stop the infernal screaming in her head.

"Patience, my dear. There is one thing left to show you," he answered as she placed her head on his shoulder. "I have discovered a way to give my fellow magisters and senators the ability to control their mage slaves without the use of tranquility. By searing lyrium into her flesh I have created an unusual concoction that will give them aversion to using their will against others." His hand traced the branding on her shoulder blade and then it all made sense. The spell, runes, and ritual were something to keep him in control of her. "And to give final credence to my power over them I present you this, my dear Adria."

He pointed her in the direction of Fenris. He was glaring at her spitefully with every breath she took. He was so focused on Adria that he didn't see Hadriana moving behind him. She saw the flash of steel and it disappeared. Fenris flinched and fell to his knees. Adria grabbed her side and sobbed. Something had stabbed her deeply. She felt the blood seep through her gown and down to the floor. Her hand searched for a hole and found none. She gagged and gasped as she felt the turning of a knife vibrating in her flesh.

Danarius held her tightly against him as she cried. Her hands were caked in blood. She grew faint and saw the hilt of a dagger sticking out of the elf's side.

"What's happening to me?"

"Shhh, it'll be all over soon."

"I'm, I'm going to die?"

"No."

She felt herself being carried away by two strapping arms. Her feet dragged along the ground and she lost a slipper along the way. She was hot, wounded and shocky. She shook with cold sweats that poured out of her pores.

"It's alright, Little Miss, the healer is already waiting for you," the guard-captain's voice said softly. He cradled her in her arms and carried her up the stairs to her room. "It's a stupid thing for Danarius to do. What if Hadriana had tried to kill Fenris?"

"Maybe that was the point. If I know what happened: she did indeed try," Adria groaned.

* * *

><p>He winced as the hilt of the blade scraped on his armor. He was out of breath and looked at the pooling blood that flooded around his outstretched fingers. Hadriana patted him on the back and chuckled to him in his agony. He heard Adria whimpering across the room from him. She was snow white and bloodied. Red lines streaked her face and fell to the floor in splatters. He smirked at her suffering with satisfaction.<p>

"What's wrong Fenris? You seem troubled?" Hadriana cooed sarcastically.

"Not troubled. Confused. By her. What is she?" he questioned her.

"Your one saving grace. It was Danarius' gift to her," she explained softly in his ear.

"Gift? This isn't a gift. This is a prison," he spat.

"A prison that the two of you created," she hissed. "Maybe it will change your tune if I twisted the blade a little further," she uttered.

He felt the pressure of the knife start to turn. He growled softly and placed his hand on hers to stop it. He glared at the heartless bitch and wrenched the dagger from his side. His hand contracted forcefully until her fingers splayed and the bloody knife fell to the floor with a clatter.

"The blood in his veins now marks her body. They are now one. My two most prized possessions will be bound to each other ad infinitum." He sneered at the wounded elf with contempt and nodded. "It is now a punishment and a curse that they both share past transgressions."

Hadriana lifted him up to his feet.

"What offense have I committed to deserve this?" Fenris yelled.

"It's from a time long since buried, my little wolf. Thank my love for that. You should have never treaded where you weren't permitted," Danarius warned. "Take him away."

A guard grabbed his shoulder and led him from the hall. The magister kept gloating about his enchantments and the integral arts that he passed to make all of what had transpired possible. He staggered up the stairs under his own power and left the guards to stroll behind him. The guard-captain met him at the top of the stairs.

"You are alright, I see," he said in relief.

"No thanks to her. What the hell did she do to me?" he snapped as he shoved him aside.

"She did nothing to you, but be compassionate. It was you who failed to do the one thing you were meant to do," he argued as he opened the chamber door.

"What was that?"

"Not get too close. You lost yourself after Danarius' blasted ritual and it should be her that you ask about before. Because at this rate, she's the only one who has ever stood up for you at the cost of her own life. I think you owe her."

"I owe her nothing."

"If that's what you believe, then Maker help you. She won't quit being who she is because the person she knew died that day. And it's her guilt that keeps her from getting close to you. I watched her grow up and no child should have had to endure what she did. The nightmare that she's lived was only made slightly more bearable by having the one person she could count on. He didn't like her in the beginning, but in time he grew to cherish her. In the end, she lost everything and everyone. So her sacrifices went in vain."

They looked at her on the bed in a sound sleep. Blood stained her pillow in small droplets. The soft whir of the healer standing over her stopped and he nodded.

"She'll be fine. She's just resting. Hadriana came close to killing you both," the healer mage said with a frown. "I will tend to you in a few minutes. I have to collect some things before we begin."

He pressed past them and left them staring at the stark white woman under the coverlet.

"I didn't kill whoever it was that she pines for now," Fenris grumbled.

"You didn't, but Danarius removed him from her reach and here you stand in his place. So in essence: he killed him and she can't bargain against it. That person is dead and when she looks at you she sees him."

Fenris sighed uncomfortably and leaned in the doorway.

"You act as if I should care," he snorted.

"You should. It was her hand that led you on this path. Her will and heart exposed and she didn't take it lying down."

"Isn't that her job?" he jabbed coldly.

"If you weren't already injured I'd kill you myself."

"At the risk of killing the mage? Wherever do your loyalties lie?"

"I look at her as a daughter. As twisted as it is to think of her being bedded by Danarius repeatedly doesn't mean I think she doesn't hold an innocent purity. She can hold her own and while behind those eyes of hers I still see the six year old terrified girl who had her life snatched away from her. You were the same. The Imperium sucks in that magnitude. When I saw her about to give her heart to someone she was willing to do it at the risk of damaging herself."

"So she's a martyr then?"

"No. She's a living breathing person. And her mindset has changed to such a skewed version of what affection and tenderness is, I don't think she'll ever find it. She won't understand it and it'll terrify her when she finally acknowledges it. Danarius is a means to an end. She's smart enough to know that he'll never love her the way that her knight did."

_A knight to save the princess from all the dangers that would consume her._

_It's a stupid thought process. Heroes don't exist to save the damsel in distress._

_Not in her case. It was the damsel that always saved the knight by doing mind-bending tasks and living with scars far deeper than he could ever describe._

"Good night, Fenris. I have to get back on duty. Just-." He placed his hand on his shoulder. "Just don't be too hard on her."


	17. Chapter 17

Fenris stared at the ceiling. The hard mattress of his cot pressed into his back. Stone above, stone below. It was like living in a mausoleum. A single candle lit the room. It flickered and shimmied with a mesmerizing flow. Sleep evaded him. Sounds that permeated the hard stone walls trickled in from the next room. Soft groans and whimpers as skin crashed against each other.

It was a crescendo of sorts that made him sit up with a start. His side was a dull throb that perked its intensity when he moved. He rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes. He didn't know if it was worse to let his imagination take over and write out the scenes from the next room or to be annoyed by the egregious ruckus that kept him from his slumber.

Every night it was the same thing with them. The announcement that they were copulating never seemed to detract from the topsy-turvy anxiety he had. He should have despised her. She possessed his thoughts when she was around and he obsessed over her when she was painfully absent.

The aging guard-captain had spoken words that he dared not listen to. For all he knew, the man was trying to appeal to his sensibilities. He was a guard to one of the most powerful senators in Tevinter. He knew the name of the game and to keep the peace between them he would have said anything to keep the elf's aversion to magic from overriding the already turbulent situation they were in.

It was the look in his eye when he looked at Adria in the bed. He cared for her. He didn't lie to him in that nature. The other things, well, that could be interpreted as exaggerations on his part. He didn't know this woman in the way that the guard and slaves all seemed to insist on. She was a victim of circumstance. It hardly seemed believable. The way she walked through the mansion with her head held high, never cowering when Danarius ordered her to her knees wherever he pleased. She never looked the part of a slave. Her spirit remained unbroken by her persecutor.

Regardless of what that blasted man said it was the look she gave him that struck him. The way her eyes became hollow when he yelled at her. She was far more hurt by his barbed words. His threatening posture was one that knocked her into a subservient to him; on her knees and solicited her own execution before all the magister lords and absconded a piece of him with it. The proud woman who fell into submission with a simple glare had needled her way into a part of him that he couldn't pull her from. He had far more power over her than Danarius ever had.

Fenris swung his legs over the side of the bed and shook his head. What a notion. She was a slave not only to Danarius but to him. Years of conditioning from the magister had transformed her into a person who would have catered to his every desire if he demanded it. Obviously their master would never allow such a thing, but the prospective idea was intriguing. He snuffed the life from the flame and turned over. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. The groans still persisted and he shuddered.

He felt hot breath on his arm. It was rapture incarnate. A hand slid over his bare chest and explored the musculature with loving care. His blood coursed through his veins with testosterone driven desire. He reached into the darkness and felt the warm body move closer to him. Her legs intertwined as he pressed his own yearnings on her. He knew that scent from anyone's. It was intoxicating and dripped with pheromones. He took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. Her back arched and a soft gasp escaped into the night. He violently kissed her and only released her when he couldn't breathe any more.

"Are you willing to die for the fantasy?" she quietly questioned in his ear.

Her tongue twisted and turned down the side of his neck and took her turn desecrating his lips with hers. She rolled on top of him. His fingers raked her back like an animal with his defeated prey. He had to take her. Blur the line between the blood, danger, and life. She moved over him like a sainted woman at her coronation. He slammed into her and let the feelings wash over him. She was harsh and unforgiving. The way she moved around sent him into a tailspin of lust and wanting.

"Isn't that what I'm doing?" he groaned as her hips shifted.

She worked him with forceful glides. He held her still and let the pulsating in his head stop. Her body was slick with sweat as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her breasts were restrained against him. He was losing control and submitting to the will that her body commanded. He kissed her chest and grunted. She fell over his hands and moaned loudly. That funny little language she spoke when she was angry broke through.

"Say it," she muttered with a sigh.

"I am," he winced. "I am willing to do it all just for this moment."

His eyes shot open. He was in a cold sweat. Silence was almost unendurable at this point. His muscles trembled and shook from the increase of adrenaline. His ragged breath came out in waves of frustration. His hair clung to his face. He grew irate and smacked the candle to the floor. He grabbed his head and groaned angrily. Fenris sprang from the bed and paced. He ran his fingers through his hair and fumed at the dream. It had no right to taunt and tease him in such a way. He heard the door to Danarius' chamber close. He hurried to the door and carefully opened it a crack.

Adria was running down the stairs in a near sprint. He slipped through the door and followed her. He had to know where she was going at this time of night. He followed her until she stopped at the back door to the gardens. She glanced over her shoulder and he ducked into an adjoining hall. The crash of thunder grew louder as she opened the door and it became more diminutive when the door finally closed behind her.

* * *

><p>The lightning spread across the sky with outstretched fingers. The thunder greeted her with its ferocious roar. She ran into the rain and wind and never looked back. Her body chilled in the torrential downpour. Her feet splashed through puddles as blades of grass ripped at her feet like shards of glass. Her gown hiked up with the movement her legs made. She spun around to face the large prison that had held her for so long. She escaped it numerous times just to be free of Danarius and the hours that she took his wrath. She looked at the window to her bedroom chamber and screamed. The thunder joined in her outburst.<p>

She noticed someone moving towards her; a lanky figure that approached her as if to go unnoticed in the darkness. Her eyes narrowed at the failed attempts at stealth. She knew who it was. His frame was unmistakable. There was no need for the overzealous use of hiding. Her head cocked as he came up to her. Bare flesh that rippled gently and his taut physique were pleasing to the eye. The newly formed scars that scrawled on his torso in intricate patterns were vines that wrapped around the trunk of a tree.

"What do you want?" she growled, hiding her intrigued expressions.

"I could ask you the same thing," he smirked. "It's raining out here. Shouldn't you be inside?"

"Thanks for your concern, but I don't need it," she snapped.

She turned away from him. It was best to avoid him. She didn't want to see him. It was her time to clear her head no matter the climate. His voice was an echo that rattled her to her core. She balled her hands into fists and spun at the elf. He looked at her perplexed by her change in her demeanor.

"You are the one that holds the key to every question I have," he started with a sigh. "You hold this grudge as a shield and I am not at fault for what happened to this person that you cared for more than anything it seems."

"I know you're not at fault," she muttered softly.

"Then how do I know you didn't kill him yourself with your magic and you are feeling guilty? Every look you give me is like a knife to the back." He infuriated her. How dare he have the audacity to blame her for what happened. She didn't destroy him. She couldn't have. It wasn't her choice to sign him up for the tournament. It wasn't her choice to have him undergo the ritual. In a blind rage, she charged him. She was going to kill him. He pushed her to the ground in front of him and crossed his arms with a smirk. "You want to fight? Fine. We are going to do this properly then."

She glared up at him.

"What do you suggest then?"

"Stay here," he ordered.

He tore off in the direction of the mansion leaving her in a murky puddle of water. Her clothes were sopping wet and translucent. She shivered from the cold. He wanted to play. Fine, she could do that. Even if it killed her in the end she was going to bleed him dry for being an obstreperous asshole. She stood and pushed her hair from her face.

She didn't have to wait long before Fenris came back in his armor along with his broadsword and a long sword. She looked at him questioningly. Two guards walked on to the back patio and pointed at the pair of them. They skirted the perimeter of the stony path and stopped at the edge of the grass with curiosity. The elf handed her the blade and took a step back.

"You want me to come at you with this?" she smirked.

"Yes. No magic. No- what was it you called it?- glowy thing. Just you and me."

"You can't be serious," she scoffed.

"I'm deadly serious. I'll even give you first strike," he prodded with a grin.

He readied himself in a defensive stance. She couldn't help but chuckle at the idea of fighting with him in the rain. It was the last thing she figured she would be doing that night. Two more guards stood on the path and egged her on to hit him.

She ran at him and as calmly as he could he pushed her aside. She stumbled forward a couple of feet and swore under her breath. She spun around on her heels with the full reach of the blade. He smacked it away with a laugh.

"Why do you keep toying with me?" she growled as she regained her footing.

"You look like you need to blow off some steam," he smirked. He prepped again with a nod. "Come at me."

* * *

><p>They circled each other in their deadly dance. Adria was scanning him and when the glint in her eyes targeted a spot on him she lunged. He blocked her advance by smacking the blade loose from her grip. The silverite blade twirled into the darkness and she was disarmed and standing there; dumbfounded by what had happened.<p>

"Little Miss," the guard-captain called and unsheathed his own weapon for her to take.

Fenris couldn't help but grin as the man whispered in her ear. His hints and help weren't going to aid her in this exercise. Several guards were standing as money exchanged hands. He looked up and saw the window still vacant. He knew that if they were caught it would be a bloody spectacle for both of them. She nodded and held her weapon up and squinted in the rain.

"Ready?" he prodded.

"Aye," she muttered.

He made the first move and sliced through the air. She jumped back and arched around him. Their blades twirled as she spun around him. She was chuckling in delight of her dodge. He couldn't let her get away with it.

She charged him again and he stepped out of the way. She ran passed him and playfully he smacked her across the ass with the flat part of his blade. She yelped and whirled. She was panting and wounded. She rubbed her backside briefly and bit her lip in humiliation. The guards broke into laughter and teased her playfully.

"You're doing it all wrong."

"So what! I thought we were having fun. Or are you wearing me down so you can finally defeat me?" she spat.

"What if I said I was? What then?"

He swung the blade as if it was an extension of himself. It was coordinated and deliberate. She deflected the shot and riposted. He staggered back and saw the small tear in his armor. Warm dampness oozed from it. The sudden blackout of light left him blinded in the depths of the inky night. He could hear her rapid breathing ebb gradually fade off.

"Why are you doing this?" she questioned.

The lightning flashed and he caught a glimpse of her standing behind him. He rotated and parried her incoming attack. He pressed into her and she brought the blade and clashed with his blade. He applied more weight to her. Her feet slid and she labored to break the stalemate. He looked into her eyes and the turbulent anger that drove him to almost yield to her. Blood tricked down her shoulder, but she paid it no mind. Her strap to her gown was frayed and broken. Her bare shoulder glistened with rain droplets that mimicked diamond dust

"I want you to hear what you have to say," he answered. "You need to get something off your chest. I want to know what it is, so we can move on with this."

"You seem to be getting off on this more than you think," she grumbled.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying it," he smiled teasingly.

"I have nothing to say to you," she belted. She pushed off of him with her foot and put some distance between them. "There's nothing you need to know about me. What happened to me is in the past. It doesn't have anything to do with you."

"It doesn't? I thought it did. You're missing something. And if you really believe that I am that obtuse, then you have been more naïve than I thought." She looked at the ground and frowned. The handle of the sword slipped from her hand and fell to the ground beside her. "Pick it up."

"No." She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm not doing this anymore."

"One more round. That's all I ask. After that you can go back to Danarius and resume your life as if nothing happened. Or you can tell me what I want to know."

"Which is?"

"Who hurt you so bad that you have to take it to me? Why am I being punished for something that I have no recollection of ever doing?"

She shuddered and shook her head. She bent over and picked up the blade. Her fist twisted around the handle and positioned herself as if she was going to make the first attack. Fenris held the blade in the same position and they stared each other down. They both ran at each other. The warrior swung first and cut through the air. She bent backwards and dodged him. She slid to her knees and struggled to get up. Fenris slammed the tip of his blade into the softened soil. He snatched her by the hair and lifted her up. She gasped and grew quiet when he pulled her closer to him to restrain her. They were locked on each other. Her eyes were wide as he leaned in to her. Her breath became ragged as he took her in.

"Answer," he muttered menacingly.

"No," she uttered.

* * *

><p>His eyes fell on her sword and lifted her wrist. His thumb pressed her tendons and her fingers tingled and went numb. He pulled the blade from her grasp and threw her to the ground. She looked up at him. Water dripped from his hair as if it was he that was causing the torrential storm. He paced around her. Cold steel slipped up her back. Her head fell forward and there was nothing. She was empty. All her energy was expended and again she found herself at the will of the elf.<p>

She got to her knees to rise and stopped when the blade he was wielding caught her under the chin. He forced her to look at him. Lightning flashed overhead and illuminated his face. The deep green eyes couldn't lie. He never intended for her to get away with a cryptic answer. He was just as lost in the moment.

"I remember first seeing you like this," he scowled. "The first time I heard about you it was through that one elf girl. She had told me about you in passing. When I finally got to see who this mysterious prisoner was I was taken by her. She showed no fear and detested everything. Hadriana told me about your trysts with-."

"I told you it doesn't matter. Leto's dead. I can't change that."

"That's not what I want to hear. I want to hear what made you turn against him. How did you fail him?"

"I didn't."

"Come on, Adria. Everyone here knows what you have been going through and that my sheer existence is what makes you want to kill me. I want to know why? I never wronged you. I didn't kill him. Maybe it's your own displaced guilt."

"What do you want me to say! That I murdered him?"

"Do you believe that?"

"I pushed him to train. I led him astray from what his job was. He was there when I cried. When I was sick or injured. If I hadn't run away that one night he wouldn't have been placed in the situation to take another's life. If I hadn't let rage get the better of me we wouldn't have had to say good-bye to each other the way we did. We went too far. It drives me insane to think that if I had just completely submitted myself to Master Danarius that maybe he would still be here. Every time I look at you, I see him and it kills me. You are everything that makes me hate and bleed for my indiscretions. What I bear is not ill will against you; but you are a constant reminder of everything that I once had. Now I'm an empty shell of everything that I had once dreamed."

"You were close?"

"Yes. Far closer than I had anticipated. He saw past all the petty and useless shit and for once in my life I was free of invisible restraints. I lived and died for him."

"Say it," he snapped.

"Say what?"

"Did you ever tell him how you felt before he left?"

"I couldn't."

"If you were willing to bleed for him: then why not? Did you want to?" She nodded and closed her eyes. "Then say it to me. If he and I are the same don't you think maybe even now he'd like to know how you felt?"

"There's nothing left to say. Words won't bring him back."

His hand was growing shaky. He stilled and glanced over his shoulder quickly. Adria couldn't tell if it was the cold and rain, which fell around them like a smothering blanket. He dropped the sword and pulled her up to him.

"Did you…"

"Love him?" He nodded slowly. She felt tears well in her eyes. She wanted to flee and not be the center of attention. She pleaded for the guard-captain for him to stop this and let her just get on with her life. He cocked his head and frowned mournfully. "I can't say."

"Captain? May I?" Fenris implored.

He didn't wait for a response. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She looked away from him. He lifted her chin to his and kissed her gently. There was no force necessary. Her body trembled against his. She was slipping in to that warm and endearing place that she had forbade herself from travelling to again. The chill of his armored tips hit her shoulders and traced her arms.

He still smelled the same. Still felt the same. Nothing had changed. He kissed her the same way he had the last time he saw him in his former form. She sank further into him. She became dizzy and felt like she'd stopped breathing. He was her resuscitation and she thanked the Maker as the heat of his body penetrated her. There was no cold or rain. It was an automatic upheaval of interred vulnerability. She could see everything as if it was noon. She was blinded by light that saturated her core. He gently pulled back. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. She saw him. They were one and the same. The arguing that both of them had undergone with themselves was trivial.

_Live a little. You don't know how long you have until this taken away._

She ran her fingers through his hair and down the tips of his ears. He threw his gauntlet to the ground and smeared her lipstick with his thumb. She forced herself on him. They locked in a battle on common grounds. He dipped her back and took control and she was very willing to give it up. His hands clawed at her back and held her until she had to exhale. She tasted blood in her mouth and wiped her lips dry. Small streaks of red melted in the rain water.

_Say it. Say what you believe. Do you pay in blood, imaginings, and beliefs? Say it. _

An eruption of sound came from the guards that stood by and witnessed their passionate embrace. Whistles and cat calls echoed into the night. She grew fearful that Danarius would overhear the cacophony of excitement.

"Say it. _I _want to hear it," he uttered softly.

_Die for this fantasy. Do you see? You believe in it as much as he does. Say it! Say it! To him!_

He brushed her bangs from her face and wiped away her sanguine tears. Cold steel that stoked the fires of her hot, damask flesh rubbed down the curve of her chin and perched her head in his hand. "Yes, I loved him."

"You two should get inside before Danarius comes out here and catches you two," the guard-captain warned.

"We're going right now," Fenris said as he gripped her small hand in his.

* * *

><p>He pushed open the door to the master suite and led her in. She was so care-worn that she didn't bother acknowledging him. She was raw and turbulent. Their walk was held in silence. He could see now why the glances and glares were so painful. She was wounded by it. She never admitted anything to anyone. She couldn't even admit her own emotions to herself. To do so would have left her vulnerable and open to attack.<p>

He was this new person that stood against her and in the path of what she once had. He was the constant reminder of her doubts and neurotic delusions of what happiness. Ignorance was bliss for her. Now he was dead and he wished he could remember what they had went through together to bring them so close to each other. He was juxtaposed by his own rambling feelings. On one hand he hated her for being what she was: a representation of all the things he loathed in the world. On the other hand, he knew that she was telling the truth. He felt it in his gut. It was a hole that was growing in size and depth.

"Adria," he muttered quietly. She turned to him and bit her lip. "Why didn't you tell him? Er, me?"

"What would you have said if I said it to you?"

"If I was in that position? Probably the same thing."

"It doesn't change the fact that I had my chance and I lost it. I was scared and worried and thought that maybe he wouldn't feel the same way. I mean look at what I have to do. It isn't exactly conducive to emotional stability."

"What if the roles were reversed?"

"I would have told him I loved him, because I didn't know if I was going to get another chance to."

"I see."

"Look, we don't need to discuss this. You're not him and I don't expect you to ever be such. You need to be you and let me cope the best I can."

"If that's what you wish."

"I just want him to forgive me for everything."

She slid under the covers and closed her eyes. He watched her doze off until her breathing became shallow and even. He leaned against the wall and saw the small beads of red roll down her cheek.

* * *

><p>He held his breath as he closed the door behind him. Two accusing eyes met him in the hallway. The cold and calculating stare from the elven lass was unsettling. A small bundle was nestled in her arms. Small arms jumped from the ragged blanket and reached for the sky.<p>

"After everything you still can't put her behind you," she muttered in an accusatory fashion.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled uncomfortably.

He rushed past her and opened his door.

"You do realize it was her that took away everything from you."

"Look, D'lara. Whatever happened between you and I in the past is not happening now. I know nothing can happen between us and that's fine I can handle that. I did it so she could get it out of her system."

"So there's nothing going on?"

"Nothing."

"You're lucky I can't bear to see you pay for her again."

"So what? You're going to keep your mouth shut about it?"

"For now."

She proudly walked away with the small babe whimpering in her arms. He shook his head and sealed himself inside his room. He knew that she would come back to bite him in the ass for what he did. He sprawled across his bed and waited for sleep to evade him yet again.

* * *

><p>Fenris poked his head in to her room. Danarius was strangely absent from the room. A red dawn painted the harsh stone walls a shade of tangerine. He held his breath and sat in the chair nearest to her. She clutched a small doll under her arm. It was missing an eye and had been torn and frayed. The head was laid lazily against her face. It stared at him suspiciously as he watched its owner sleep.<p>

He didn't know what came over him last night. He felt an urge; a desire that screamed in his ears to do it. He should have ignored it, but when the moment came he reacted and in the eleventh hour he lost himself. He lied to that stupid twit of an elf and to himself. He demanded his satisfaction. It wasn't the hot fantasy that drove him to trespass up on his master's possession, but the weakness that he had tried to take away from her.

Something within him started a cascade of emotion. It was a demon that he couldn't exorcise. It was already a part of him. Ingrained in the bone and mind. He knew that he was only going to gain one chance and he took it. The way she pleaded with him to take away the pain for just a brief moment was her impassioned plea to try and make him remember.

In a way, he never forgot. He fought it. Fought her. Fought himself and lost.

Blunt chops broke the morning's peace. Fenris walked over to the window and saw Danarius and Hadriana standing over bodies. The hooded executioner kicked the corpse away from the chopping block and waived the final condemned man over to him. The remaining man, in his guard uniform, looked up at him as he was forced to his knees. The greying hair tied back in a ponytail gave him away. They were all going to pay for not stepping in to apprehend them.

He could see his mouth moving and in an instant he knew what he was saying.

"_Take care of Little Miss."_

The executioner raised the great sword over his head. Fenris closed his eyes as the blade began to fall and listened to it slice through the man's neck. His muscles twitched at the grotesque noise. He opened his eyes again to the beheaded torso being kicked off to the side for disposal. He looked at Adria and his heart broke. She was angelic and peaceful. He wanted to wake her and be there to console her, but he also didn't want to disturb her from those few hours of fleeting freedom.

Danarius was kind to not drag her out there and have her bear witness to what had transpired.

"I'm sorry, Fenris. Don't go," she breathed as she rolled away from him.

It was another dagger in his back. He approached her and sat beside her on the bed. He couldn't help but watch as she began to cry into her pillow. His pain had been far overshadowed by hers. Her hands balled into fists as she clutched at the blanket angrily.

He took his gauntlet off and tucked her hair behind her ear. She was restless and begging for his forgiveness even in her sleep. He couldn't make her an enemy for who she was or what she did. She was his opposite and this hardened warrior couldn't help but become scared of her. He understood where the feelings were coming from. It was a phantom that didn't cease in its attempts to assuage his hatred for his absent past. If he was someone else before the ritual, then he would fight to gain back what was taken from him. He was his own worst enemy. He was powerless to stop her from being the center of what he was.

All the confusion that had emerged when she was around and away had been the search of an answer that he needed to uncover. He had made her into what she was. Her dreams hadn't died like she had so bluntly put it. She created a coffin with her tears and buried them away. The looks of loneliness were her way of saying that all she saw in him was the one she wanted. If they had to be bound to each other, then he couldn't sit by and let her drift away from her promises and let her emotions be deliberately pushed aside, on account of her own misgivings.

_I'm sorry. I forgive you. For everything._


	18. Chapter 18

Something was burning. The smell of smoke awoke her from her slumber. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up. Plumes of grey and black billowed up the glass before dissipating into the atmosphere. Her stomach growled hungrily as she got from the bed and readied herself for the day. She hummed to herself simple arpeggios with a smile that never left her face. She was light, airy, like the whole weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

She hurried to the nightstand and pulled her doll from the drawer. It was the guard-captain's birthday and the smell of cooking meat made her elated that Danarius would be doing something nice to honor the man who maintained control of the espirit de corps of his private troops. She patted the doll on the stomach. It was her gift to him; the only thing that she personally could call her own. It was her prized possession and the one thing that she found hard to part with. But like how he treated her like his own and protected her when he could, she knew that he would do the same thing for this worn little creation.

She had a skip in her step as she went down the stairs. Slaves and guards stopped and looked at her with prying eyes. She greeted them with smiles and continued on her trek to the dining hall. Danarius was in the hall speaking with a woman. He was trying to remain as calm as he could for the sake of argument, but from the tone in his voice he was losing his patience with the woman's ranting.

Fenris was by his side. He looked at her briefly and averted his eyes to the confrontation that was proceeding. Danarius saw her walk up to them and smiled. He waved her over and put his arm on her shoulder.

"There you are, my dear. Did you sleep well?" Danarius cooed softly.

"I did Master Danarius," she replied. "Seems things are a little hectic this morning. Is something going on?"

"There is."

"Magister, I have no idea why you are so intent on acting nonchalant about this. You had no justification for doing what you did. The Senate will hear about this," the woman snapped.

"Darling, could you please attend to her? I have some things to finish," Danarius asked in exasperation.

"It is as you will it," Adria said.

"Very good."

He kissed her on the forehead and strolled away. Both women watched him leave the room. Adria grew nervous. The daggers this woman threw at her with her cold glares were impeding her ability to find a semblance of happiness. The irate woman scanned the room for people and when she was satisfied that there were none, she focused solely on Adria.

"Is there something I can do for you," she asked humbly.

The woman pursed her lips and slapped her across the face. Adria gasped and held her hand up to her cheek.

"This is your doing!" she hissed.

"I have no idea what you speak of, Mistress," Adria stammered.

"He's dead because of you. It's your fault my brother is dead," the woman sobbed into her hands.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. But I don't understand as to who you speak of. Maybe I can find them if you give me a name and description I can find out what has happened," Adria told her, bringing the stuffed doll in front of her.

The woman looked down at the raggedy doll and sighed. She took the doll from Adria and turned it over as she examined the puffed up object. Her finger followed the seam along its back and paused.

"You're Adria, correct?" she muttered.

"I am, Mistress. I apologize if I angered you," Adria pouted.

"No. It is I that should be apologizing to you. You are not the person that should be incurring my wrath. It is that bastard of a man. I shouldn't have struck you so harshly. Are you alright, dear?" She handed back the floppy toy and shuddered. "My brother spoke of you often. Never an ill word past from his lips when you were the topic of discussion. It's hard to believe you've lasted as long as you have."

"I'm just trying to survive, Mistress."

"I told my brother to be careful, but it seems he did not heed my words. What he was doing cost him his life. I just hope it wasn't in vain. He was doing this for you and others like you. And now my sister-in-law is a widow with nothing left to her."

"I'm sorry," Adria said glumly.

"I just want his body returned so that our family can inter him properly amongst those that loved him."

"I'll see what I can do. Though I'm not sure my pleas will be listened to by Master Danarius. I can try though."

"Thank you." She sulked and patted her on the hand. "If you can't have his body released in to our custody: it would do us the greatest honor if you would preside over him during his pyre."

"Mistress, I can't honor him. I'm a slave. But I will do it. No one should pass to the Maker's side unmourned and alone."

"You weren't a slave in his eyes. You were a daughter that he couldn't save."

The woman stormed away, wallowing in tears of grief.

"A daughter?" She looked at the doll and thought for a moment. There was only one person who had described her in such away. She bolted for the back door and met Fenris there. He was blocking her from breaking the threshold. "Let me see him, Fenris!" she ordered.

"There's nothing you can do, Adria. It's already done. There's nothing to see. He's gone," he grumbled.

"You don't understand! I have to give him something," she insisted in a shrill voice.

"You don't want to have what they did to him burn into your memory. Remember the way he was."

She got on her tip-toes to see the smoldering pile of melting flesh have more bodies heaped on top of it. She glared at the elf and scowled. All she wanted was to uphold her promise to the grieving woman. His moss eyes glanced behind her and squinted. Adria spun around and saw the svelte D'lara standing there with a satisfied grin on her face. Her arms were folded in a smug posture. She was basking in the tumultuous emotions that Adria failed to hide.

"Adria, don't," Fenris warned as he grabbed her upper arm to restrain her.

"Is there a problem? What's all the excitement?" D'lara beamed in an exaggerated tone. She sauntered up to the two of them and blew her bangs out of her face. Adria shook with rage as the elf closed in on her. "I need to speak with Fenris. Alone."

She looked up at the stoic sentinel and frowned. She was defeated in an instant. Her shoulders fell forward and she wilted before their eyes. The mournful woman nodded slowly and pressed past Fenris headed for the gardens. He was far too distracted to notice her slip by because of the audacity of the woman's demand. She didn't want to make a fuss or sink down to her level, but everything in her told her to punch her.

_Just do something to her._

* * *

><p>He could hear her forced expulsions of air. She leaned in the door half in and half out and stared. He heard her muttering in her first language and snickered. The elven woman was confused by the strange syntax and scowled. Adria did it deliberately to infuriate the woman. Then her tone changed from the common to archaic. He glanced at the weakened mage and he was taken aback by her. She couldn't have been doing what he thought. How he dreaded the idea that she would resort to harming herself to inflict pain on another.<p>

It was a step in the opposite direction than he wanted. The proper concubine had become aggressive and it was a side of her that people rarely saw. Her cheeks became flushed as she mumbled in a dark and ominous whisper. Sweat beaded on her forehead. He had to act fast to keep her from wounding herself inadvertently. She raised a hand as her body began to shake in her dissolving state.

"Stop," Fenris snapped. He shook her shoulders violently until she came to. "You don't want to do this."

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'll leave you two alone," she muttered softly before storming away.

She ran to Danarius' side and buried her face in his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair and patted her back in a consoling fashion. It was sickening to watch this young woman cling to the man who had set her on the path of pain. The rag doll stared at him still with its one remaining eye. It was accusatory and cold.

"She'll be fine," D'lara finally stated in a frigid tone.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Fenris growled, turning his attention to the elf.

"Why do you think I had anything to do with this?"

"This has all the ear marks of something you would do."

"Is that what she told you? You can't trust her. I told you that. She's raised to be a liar and she's pretty damn manipulative at that."

"How can you say that? You hardly know her."

"I know the len'alas lath'din better than you do. She'll do anything to keep us apart."

"There is no _us_," he hissed.

"There was and now you are going to completely ignore your obligations?"

"I'm not obligated to you for anything."

"Really? Follow me," she grumbled.

Fenris looked over his shoulder at the couple standing near the pyre. Adria was beside herself as smoke clouds assaulted her. She glinted out of the corner of her eye and resumed her painfulness with covert attention to Danarius' uttered words. She would nod at what he said and nestle deeper into him. She was a deluge of emotions. Each seemed to rear its head and dissipate just as fast only catching a peek of the outside world before submerging itself back within her.

He followed D'lara to the slave quarters. It was a filthy joined room where they all resided on their rare off hours. An elderly woman sat in a rickety wooden chair in the corner with a makeshift bassinet next to her. She smiled as the pair approached and nodded that it was safe for them to near the little cot.

D'lara pulled the frazzled afghan away and showed him the slumbering babe bundled in the blanket. He stared at it questioningly and made a face at her implication. He cleared his throat to rid himself of the disquieting evidence the woman was trying to present to him.

"This is yours?" he queried.

"And yours," she corrected.

"That's not possible," he shouted in dismay.

"And why not? We were together before your ritual. One night was all it took and low and behold I bore you a child." She pulled the coverlet back over the wee barren and crossed her arms in irritation. She waved him away from the crib and they started back for the door and to where he was supposed to be stationed. "This is why she wants to interfere. She doesn't want you to know the things that kept you two apart. Once she found out I was with child, she made it her duty to drive a wedge between us. She succeeded for a while, but now that you know the truth, I'd hoped that you'd take of the mantle that you received when we conceived this child."

Fenris thought for a moment about the prospect of fatherhood. A pit formed in his stomach and he became queasy at the sheer magnitude of this discovery. He tried to recall the memories of his youth and drew a blank. The wall that stood between him and those thoughts was impenetrable. If he had a father: what would he have done? Was he around? Did he die or run off? Was he orphaned by his paternal parent out of hatred, fear, or both?

"I don't know what to think about this," he murmured when he returned to the opened door.

"I want us to be a family." She pointed out the window to the solitary woman still standing motionless on the cobbled path. She hadn't noticed him return. Or maybe she had and wasn't going to acknowledge it. "The whore has a family. He's our master and that's all she requires. Our child requires both of us to sustain its life."

"D'lara," he started with a sigh. "If it is what it is, then I'll take responsibility for it. I can try to work out a way for us to be a family, but my primary directive is to the safety of both Danarius and his mistress."

"She can handle things herself. Besides, I figured since you have this strong aversion to the mages that you would be put off by her. She is like them and I for one don't want to see you mixing blood with something like that."

"She's hardly a mage now. She might not be completely blocked from using magic, but do you really think that she's willing to use it at the risk of her own life?"

"You saw her! She was going to attack me, fully knowing that it was going to injure her."

"You have a point," he grumbled.

"I want us to be together, Fenris. If you're responsibility lies in protecting them, then it also demands that you protect the mother of your child from her. She'd kill me if she could."

"I also know that."

Then you know what to do. You need to put your foot down about it. She'll only hinder you from moving on to greener pastures and a life that you deserve."

* * *

><p>The fires had dwindled as the remaining guards piled on the corpses. She watched them burn from the stone cold bench that stared out over the expansive lawn. She glanced down at the golem lying next to her and shook her head. The smell was disgustingly intense when the wind shifted. Burnt flesh and hair followed the whistling sound that came from bubbling flesh.<p>

The magister had allowed her to stand vigil until the fires had begun to smolder. He wasn't angry at her and she feared the oncoming storm that would result in the bedroom that night. She had prayed that Danarius hadn't found out about what happened between her and Fenris, but everything pointed to that blasted little elf exposing them. He was just biding his time to execute his assault when they were alone. The violent, rough sex would ensue in audacious positions and torture devices.

Danarius was overbearing and jealous when people looked at her. He constantly made the point to remind her that she belonged to him; she mostly thought he did it to make himself believe. For some reason he couldn't get his mind around it. The strange relationship they had was- in an awkward sense- a mutually beneficial union. With the passage of time, she found herself giving in to the more extreme throes of desire. She became less hostile to his whims and succumbed to even her own body's hunger for the obscure acts he exercised.

"_It's been a bad day for you, Little Miss."_

"Tell me about it."

"_I don't think I need to. My day hasn't been going that great either."_

"I agree."

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She shuddered as she inhaled and wiped the droplet away before anyone saw.

"_There's no need to cry for me._ _I'm in a better place now. There's no pain and I'm grateful that you weren't there to see it."_

"I left you alone to die," she grumbled, her voice wavering in anger. "Is it my fault? Did I do this to you?"

"_No. You had nothing to do with this. Of all the people I've come to know: slaves, guards, magisters, you are the only one who hides that fragile heart of yours from the world. You try to stay so strong and not be weak and inside it's creating something that you won't be able to control later."_

"It's easier to disconnect from all the hollow promises and ill-gotten compromises. Giving in only lets them know that they have captured what remaining soul I have left. Even compartmentalizing doesn't fix the situation. It bleeds into every other aspect of my life. I wish I could make believe this world away."

She picked up the doll and gently poked the middle of it. It curled around her finger and that firm resistant center wouldn't allow it to bend further.

"_I know. I wish I could have saved you from this place. It wasn't my destiny, I guess, to do so. But you aren't alone. You have Fenris and he cares about you. Maybe it was his fate to lead you from here."_

"He doesn't know any better. He just doesn't want me glaring at him anymore."

"_What he did last night was under his own free will. No one put a sword to his back and forced him to do anything. Whatever his intentions were – good or otherwise – doesn't mean that there was nothing behind it. I sat for days watching as you two would pass each other. He was enamored with you. He watched you when he was supposed to be paying attention to Danarius. He's not your enemy and he can't take anything from you unless you give it to him willingly. He's the closest thing you have to family in this place now that I am… gone."_

"Family," she grumbled. "I had a family and they were taken away."

"_So was his. The both of you were left abandoned by one person's pride. He doesn't care that you had people who cared about either of you. You both were isolated and alone until you came out of your shells. That's when I saw the chemistry that you were trying to hide. You had become so reliant on him, unbeknownst to your own faith in man, that when he was gone you were again abandoned and dragged in to that detached place you were before. So what do you do now? You shame yourself. Forsake everything that held you together."_

"What do you suggest I do?"

"_You've gotten by on your own and it tears at you. You want to rely on someone and Danarius has groomed you since you got here. He's the obvious source that you see for love and affection. You physically have to commit yourself to letting go just for a few albeit brief moments just to feel somewhat human. You have to decide how long you are willing to drag this out. How long can you withhold yourself without losing control and debasing the memory of that which has been your desire? Do not shun what you know is right just to feel like you haven't lost what is most precious. You are worthy of more compassion than that."_

"Compassion?" she snorted. "What has compassion gotten me thus far?"

"_Quit defeating yourself and accept the fact that Fenris would not be replacing Leto. He is Leto deep down inside. You need to make him remember."_

"How does one go about that?"

"_I don't know. You'll have to figure that one out."_

Adria rose from the bench and slowly walked to the pyre. The night had fallen around her. She hadn't noticed the dip in temperature until the nip in the air caught her back. A bittersweet zephyr floated through and blew the wafting charred remains up wind. She looked around and imagined everything decimated. Her division of self joined in a clash of contrition and longing. She had lied to herself for so long that every word she told herself had been force fed by her own mind.

"Story of my life," she muttered.

"_You'll find yourself in the end, Little Miss. I would stake my life on it. That will be the end of your tragic tale. No more lies to cover up the walking wounded. You'll have your chance to fix your transgressions and be free of your shackles that you placed around your heart. The key is to know who can unlock all your defenses and bring you to your knees uncontrollably. You'll yearn for it. Not just the approvals but because you will finally decide that you are free to give yourself over to what's been hunting you."_

She looked at the golem doll and to the fire and smiled weakly. She was ready to give it up. Not be stuck in a self-imposed limbo.

* * *

><p>Adria was eerily absent from the dinner service. He had been led around by Danarius most of the day that he couldn't shake the thoughts about what D'lara had told him or the picture of Adria standing alone in mourning. She had no shoulder to catch her tears while she grieved. He wanted to be the first to tell her and as with all his plans they fell to the wayside. He didn't have control of any situation when it came to her.<p>

He reached the back patio and saw the meteoric conflagration only dimly express her outline to him. The tight, lacy cinch tied her into her gown. Her long black hair flitted in the night air. The small crystal adorned clip pinned her hair back delicately. She glowed in the luminescence of the night. Moonlight caressed her with its sheen of white phosphorescent essence. She was stardust transformed into a living being. Angelic and pure. She was the sainted woman who had been chosen by the Maker Himself for him to make his own. The scene couldn't have been any worse for him at that moment. His heart ached at the mere sight of her.

He saw the one beady-eyed golem shoot up into the air. She was so fixated on the fires that crackled and popped that he saw the first tears slide down her cheeks.

"Adria!" he yelled. She didn't respond to him. He hurried to her and before she launched the helpless plushy into the dying inferno; he grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. "What are you trying to do?"

"I'm saying good-bye," she muttered.

"To this? Why?"

He pried her small fingers off the poor inanimate object and stared at it. It almost looked relieved to be away from its impending doom. The weight of the golem was heavier than he thought it was supposed to be.

"I don't need it anymore," she snapped coldly.

"I think you need it more than you let on," he commented, handing it back to her.

She glumly accepted it and looked to the star speckled night. He followed her stare and shivered at the wisps of deep clouds started to spread its path through the sky; devouring everything that was beautiful in the blackness of the heavens above. He sniffed the air and took in the hints of wet dust and rain. He had to make what he had to say quick before the deluge of water poured down on them from the inundated veil that hung overhead. He could already hear the already unfurled murk dropping its payload in the distance.

"Does Danarius want me to come it?" she asked, taking in the nemesis to the unadulterated empyrean.

"Yes, but that's not what I came out here for," he explained.

"Then what? I don't want to play in the rain again," she mumbled.

"It's hard to explain. Certain occurrences have come to my attention and I thought I should bring them to you."

"That's just wonderful," she muttered in a snide tone.

"Adria, I'm serious. Why didn't you tell me I had a child?"

She was confused. Her head cocked and the perplexed look was one he wasn't expecting. She appeared to almost not have a clue about what he was saying. She frowned and diverted her attention to something else. He tired of the games. Who was really leading him along?

"Because you…"

He put his hand up to stop her. He was growing agitated by the run around. He didn't know who to believe. The person who had expressed genuine concern for his well-being or the woman who belonged to another man who would have said anything to get what she wanted. All he could hear in his head was D'lara's voice egging him on to make a choice.

It was impossible to choose however. He was only given brief glimpses into his past. It was a past he partially feared reclaiming. What if both of them were right about him? Could he live with himself knowing that he had fathered a child and fell in love with another woman? He was torn and in the middle of an obvious feud. He was the pawn that could be easily manipulated to suit a need or fulfill a purpose.

"I have to choose. I have to choose between something – _someone – _unattainable and owned by another. No matter how much I watch them prostrate on my behalf they are still under the inclinations of their overseer. I've tried to placate everything and see the real picture and it always blurs into a fantasy that will never be rendered reality. If D'lara _is _telling the truth, then you have been lying to me by omission. If she _is _speaking honestly then I have an obligation to the life I created and I should try to make it work."

"So what have you decided? I can already see where this is going, but I want to hear you say it," she frowned.

The first chilled water droplets fell on his head. The clock was ticking and then it would be too late. He wouldn't be able to finish his thought before she walked away and out of his life for good. He didn't want that. He never wanted that. He couldn't understand how she could be so stubborn about this. She was cold, calculating and slightly masochistic with her question.

"I have to try. Don't you think?"

"Sure," she answered with a sarcastic nod.

"Adria," he groaned.

"What! What do you want me to say? 'Yeah, sure go ahead and show your selfless nobility because it's all you have left?'"

"That's not fair. I just don't know who or what to believe. You can't fault me for that."

"I don't _fault _you for it. I'm not even going to remark on how ludicrous I think this bloody idea is! But that's fine. If you want to attempt a life, who am I to stop you?"

The heavens opened up around them. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. It was silent. There was nothing else that could be said that would make the situation better. She shoved him away and started for the mansion. The slow sizzle of water hitting hot embers hissed at him. He was being heckled by steam.

Adria spun around and glared at him. Her hands snapped to her hips. She was burning like the noon day sun. Butterflies fluttered in his abdomen as he swallowed. The power she wielded over him was one that no matter how much he fought her will became a force that couldn't be reckoned with. The kiss from the night before was a haunting reminder of what he was missing. The way his heart erratically created its own cadence in his head when she took his breath away was a command from her lips to his. She had credence over his very existence. There was no way to escape her. He wanted her experience it again. The anguish that it created as his muscles trembled to hold back the growing passion that was exchanged between them.

"Are you coming?" she snapped.

He nodded slowly and followed her indoors. Her eyes were to the floor as they walked through the hall and up the stairs. D'lara was standing at his meager chamber door waiting for him to arrive with an answer. Adria glanced at her and kept walking. He felt it as she closed the door. She had stolen his soul and bound him more physically to her than he thought. He chastised himself for not taking her when he had the chance. But he would wait as long as it took to get her alone and to let go freely.

"I see you told her what you planned on doing?" the elf grinned.

"I did. I'll hold my end of the responsibility, but I won't abandon my chance at being hers."

"Really. A mage, a shem, a foreign tramp that survives by what's between her legs?"

"It's not what's between her legs that have helped her persevere. It's that fervent and pure strength that draws me to her like a moth to a flame. I would do anything to get close to it. Even die."

"It'll never happen."

"That's your bigoted attitude talking. It'll happen, when the time is right."

He shut the door and lay on his bed. Soft sobs echoed in from the next room. He listened to them like a requiem to her life. She didn't know. How could she? He brushed her off out of fear, desperation and confusion. If only she knew what he really felt he could finally see her hardened defenses melt away into the weakened and vulnerable woman she hid from the world. The same one he saw locked in a prison behind her eyes; begging to be released from the self-inflicted bindings that held her. He coveted that moment when her eyes would light up and the end of the nightmare would slowly wash over her. Her freedom, she needed it and he would wait until the circumstances were worthwhile.

Soft moans replaced the shedding of tears. If it was the last thing he did he was going to end her torture from Danarius. He never wanted her to undergo his willful authority. Every night he drove into her was another shattered piece that would never be recovered.

_How many times will it take till there's nothing left to salvage?_


	19. Chapter 19

Adria avoided Fenris the best she could for two years. It was so much easier to escape the looks and sneers from D'lara than to torment herself with past offenses. She enjoyed her solitude now and again; the times that she isolated herself felt like she had owed herself the favor. She was doing what he wanted and keeping her distance. Whether he wanted her to or not wasn't up for debate. They didn't speak nor acknowledge the others life as stated at his behest. She was giving him the chance to figure himself out with little nudging and see what role he had destined for himself.

D'lara's little brat ran around shrieking through the quarters before heading back down the stairs one fall morning. He was obnoxious, rude and the thought that Fenris was in complete denial of the fact that this little bastard wasn't his kid at all was a blow to the gut she could barely stomach. It was all too obvious, but with their lack of communication and her overwhelming urge to go "I told you so," didn't illustrate the true sense of annoyance that filled the young concubine to her breaking point.

She watched the elf from the mezzanine play with the rambunctious tot as any father would. It was so out of character for his violent appearance. For the life of her, she thought that she would fail to see any semblance of happiness come from him. But when he was in the presence of the noise maker, he seemed less guarded. Maybe he did know and didn't care.

It was all a matter of perspective to the fair lass that frowned at the display with a heavy heart. Her youth was spent and now in her early twenties, she had lost any ambition for anything greater. The thought of her own maternal instinct kicking in was one of the last things she wished to emerge from the darkest recesses of her mind.

Life was fleeting and protection abundant when it came to fornicating with the devil. She thought she was barren and unable to proceed with natural biological processes. It wouldn't have been fair to bring a child into this household and know that Danarius had spawned something he could easily manipulate and use against her.

_He seems happy._

She frowned again when Fenris looked up at her inadvertently. She pretended to be ignoring him and headed down the stairs and past the frolickers and on to the patio outside. The shade even for the cooler temperatures couldn't stifle the overbearing sun hanging in the pale blue sky. She leaned against the pillar and blocked rays from her eyes. Rapid successions of giggles were approaching her. She shook her head and waited for the ravenous offspring to come darting past her at a mad sprint into the yard. What she got was a small child running full speed into her.

Adria glanced over her shoulder and sighed. She put on her most convincing look of concern and knelt to the child on his back. She held her hand out gently and offered to help him up, despite her best efforts to benevolently persuade the tot that she wasn't going to harm him; he shrieked in terror and scurried to his feet.

''Are you alright?" Fenris asked.

"No damage done," Adria answered with a shrug.

"I wasn't asking you. You're obviously fine," he snapped, picking up the child and dusting him off.

"Right," she muttered slowly.

"The witch was going to get me!" the boy yelped.

"Maker's breath, turn it down an octave," she grumbled before returning to her position again.

"Go ahead and head to your mother. I must return to my duties," Fenris told the boy.

Adria rolled her eyes and waited for the tongue lashing she was about to receive. It was only a matter of time before that impudent little urchin became the catalyst for their conversation. It was just another thing that she had left alone, bit her tongue and let roll off her back.

She leaned her head against the pillar and exhaled heavily. She could hear his bare feet on the stone approaching her. She took a step off the patio and into the heat. The balmy weather was heavenly on her bare shoulders.

"You should put that child on a leash," she snapped coldly over her shoulder. "The little heathen has caused more damage than any of the other slaves' children combined. Maybe it's because of that backstabbing bitch of a mother."

"What do you know, Adria? You've never bore a life. You should revel in it not drown your sorrows in some man's bed."

"It was just a warning, Fenris," she spun around and stared the elf down. "It wouldn't take Danarius much reason to kill the little bastard. I wouldn't stop him. I couldn't. No matter how much I _wanted _to. If you care about him so much maybe you should listen to your betters more closely."

She curtsied sarcastically and strolled away. She was leading him to a far off part of the gardens; where everything started that one fated night nine years ago. She hadn't been back there since then. It was a place where the rules of the game changed and the start on a path that had led them astray. He was closing the gap between them. His eyes had a deadly bead on her as he spun her around.

Fenris' chest was heaving with angry breaths that her in the face. Her head cocked with a disparaging smirk. She was goading him into pulling some futile excuse from the air to justify his obliviousness.

"Betters?" he spat. "If a castrated mage whore is what you consider better than you should really amend that idea before your narrow minded view of the world consumes everything."

"Says the pet. The obtuse murder weapon without a true choice in all of Thedas; too blinded by his simple and petty hatred for the things that made you what you are. I am not your enemy and you do _not _want me to be."

He grabbed her by the throat and squeezed.

"It wouldn't take much for me to snuff the life right out of you. You can't scream. You can't fight. What are you going to do? Danarius won't help you. It's you and I, right here."

"It's not the first time you've had that power over me and I doubt it will be the last," she winced. "It's up to you on what you do with it. You want me to fight you just so I can prove you right. I didn't wrong you. I didn't carve into you. I didn't withhold anything from you. But because I was born the way I was I was corrupted and evil in your eyes. Two years ago you saw me differently, or so I thought. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you've been spoon fed enough lies that you couldn't tell your ass from a hole in the ground."

"Shut up!" he hissed. His hand closed a little tighter causing her to gasp. "It was you that avoided me."

"I did as you asked. I didn't argue or put up a fuss. I let you decide on your own. What would you have me do? Get on my knees and beg you to choose me over something that you seem contented with?" He released her from his grasp and shook his head disdainfully. She pressed past him and stood in the full illumination of the burning sun. He watched her as she took a backwards step and stopped. "Look around you Fenris. Imagine if everything you've ever known came crashing down around you. Your reality would cease to exist. It is but a wisp of a perspective that you have ordained to be factual when everyone else can see how flawed you really are. The perfect contentment that you assume you have is just a fantasy; one that can be taken away at the whims of the person who owns you. You own nothing. Those markings burned into your flesh aren't yours. Your past belongs to another time. I can't hold your hand through this. You are going to have to fall on your own."

"You don't have anything either."

"On the contrary, I have more than you think. I have the answers to your past. The truths that you don't see or care to. I might be a stunted mage, but I exert more power than you will ever comprehend. Enjoy your last night in Minrathous. May it be as pleasurable for you as it will be for me."

"What do you plan on doing?"

"Nothing. There is no plan. I'm going through the motions."

* * *

><p>He was distracted most of the evening. The crowded halls that overflowed with people speaking and drinking the fine wines that Danarius had pulled from the cellar for his celebratory departure to his estate in Seheron. He hadn't seen Adria all evening. He looked for her periodically. He was surprised that she wasn't by Danarius' side like the trophy he always carried her as. Magisters spoke highly of her beauty and intelligence, but even Fenris knew that they didn't know the dark side of the magister's mistress. Behind the innocent glances and meek smiles were the venomous thoughts of a temptress.<p>

Danarius dragged him around on his leash as he partook in the finer things. Conversation was rampant for most of the evening. The master of the house was pleased by all that had been in attendance. Magister Hadriana was there speaking with Danarius with her own entourage of slaves. The weighty collar dug into his shoulders as people parted when slave and master made their way around the room.

From one end of the hall to the other he thought he'd finally caught a glimpse of Adria walking amongst the throng of people. She was a ghost that disappeared and would reappear within seconds. He blinked a few times to see if the supposed illusion was the reticent poison that stalked him. Her words rang hollow in his head. The phantasm that had very nearly threatened his kin with her spiteful gnashing of teeth had dwelled in a place that had been long since abandoned. Her psychological hold that had him wishing that she'd drop her violent and chaotic was a spasm inducing disaster that rocked his core.

Adria was bitter. He could see it. The walking wounded woman casually waving off his every attempt to say something to her when he had the chance. He'd found her at many an hour sitting at Danarius' desk with her nose buried in a book coated in a thin layer of dust. She would only acknowledge him with a snap of the fingers and a forceful gesture to leave her presence. He never wronged her and as many times as she was willing to fall on her sword for the sake of argument; he always got the impression that sending him away pained her more than it ever did him.

He just needed time. That was all. Yes, two years had passed and the days dragged them to opposite sides of the divide. She burned her bridges and left him stranded in a land full of opportunity and the chance to regain a normalcy he thought he lacked. The gap would grow and swallow everything he threw at it. The intrigue in which she evoked in him was a dagger that pierced his very center. Her eyes stared through him as if he wasn't there and yet the only person that ever existed. He couldn't figure her out.

She still hadn't moved on as much as he thought. She was hardly the woman she was six months ago when he caught her standing on the railing of the balcony. She balanced and swayed in the sweltering sun. Her hands clutched her abdomen in agony as if she had been skewered by an invisible assailant. Her makeup ran down her face from tears that made the marble look even paler against the red splatters that rolled from her eyes. Gravity distorted them and left them fuzzy and imperfect once they made impact. Her bare feet smeared the sanguine fluid in ribbon-like stripes that oozed off the intricately carved molding.

"_It's not something I can give up on," she muttered to herself. "What grand design is there when a person has to take a knee and submit all will to another?_ _A dead end life with no happy ending is the only thing that can come of it. Is it really a sacrifice when the one person that you bound yourself to by your own will has taken another just to scorn you? What loss have I endured when in the end I shall be the one to face the music and realize that for all my strength I am nothing?"  
><em>

"_You aren't nothing," Fenris remarked. "Why are you up there?"_

_She carefully turned around and started back in the other direction. She teetered from side to side as she started to lose her balance. Her eyes were locked on the thin beam that kept her aloft. She made it to the center and squared off with him._

"_Testing myself," she grumbled._

"_Come down from there," he snapped. He held his hands up to aid her decent as he made his way to her. "You're going to fall."_

"_There's no need to worry. I'll be fine."_

"_Adria."_

_She lifted a foot off the rail and grinned. There was a madness to her. Her eyes were in a frenzy of fear and exhilaration, but there was something else that seemed to seep from her like the faint wafting scent of her cinnabar oil. The void that had been placed between them had been harboring a much darker and emotive secret. Her soul had left her an empty vessel that had been anticipating its filling. _

"_It'll be alright in the end," she whispered._

_Her foot slipped in the viscous fluid and she started to fall. He had barely made it in time to catch her around the waist and pull her to safety. The steel tips of his armor dug into the soft fabric. He pulled her close as the sound of fabric tearing murmured of the needed repair. She placed his hand to his chest and frowned. Her eyes were vacant as she looked up at him. She was telling him everything that she had wanted to in a long list of shimmering eyes and renounced emotions._

"_You shouldn't have been up there," he scolded her._

"_Festis bei umo canavarum," she muttered harshly._

"_This wasn't my idea. Don't you dare blame me for this," he growled._

"_No one is to blame it seems. We're all so completely innocent in this aren't we? So utterly helpless with hands bound and blinded by simple desires. Fantasies that will never become reality and the self-actualization of the false security in the word harmony. There is no peace here. No happiness. This thing that I have sheltered is so cast from me for its uninvited attempts at making me accept the inevitable. You have no idea what it takes to endure what I have lived through for these long six years."_

"_I have a pretty good picture of what you do. I'm sure so does half the staff and guardsmen that reside on the premises. It is no secret that you and Danarius have fulfilled pact after pact night after long painstaking night. How can you tell me I know nothing when I'm next door with burning blood shot eyes living your screams and moans and the not so subtle whispers that he slips into your ears as he degrades you and fills you with him? The never ending shackles that you yourself have conformed to that make your life the living nightmare you deem it to be. If it is so bad why haven't you ran? Why do you persist in blaming me for what someone else has done or not done?"_

"_Because the chaos and control that I presumably have is a game that I have learned to live. My life isn't my own and you have had more depth and consequence at the hand of another as well. How many have you killed at his word? How many questioning looks do you receive when the slaves look at you with that little bastard that has no place here? You can't deny the fact that you know absolutely nothing about what is going on. You stand in your obliviousness and act like the world revolves around D'lara and the child when you have no real idea that things are not exactly what they are perceived to be. You follow and barter and pretend that I don't exist. You argue and snap at every chance and when I decided that you were no longer welcome in my presence you harbored an enemy that I couldn't destroy. If by chance you had the ability to comprehend what I was actually getting at you would have figured it out by now instead of living in this daydream. You have no one. You have never had anyone. Danarius rules us as if we were pieces of a chess board and you fail to notice that I am the other person playing."_

"_You're talking in circles and making little sense as to what you are really trying to say. What does it matter what I believe or disbelieve? You should be happy that I am happy. It's not a requirement and I don't even really care that you feel betrayed by me or D'lara. We are in a mutual agreement until I have things figured out. You curse me and the possibility that I have reared an offspring. My life will live on once I am gone through this child. If your cause for anger is due to the fact that D'lara is fertile then you should take that up with Danarius. Do not hide your envy in a shroud of self-loathing and scorn me for what I cannot control. _

_If you laid awake as much as I have and listened as intently as I have then you will know that I have been there the whole time for you in spirit and handled with what little dignity I had to control myself from bursting in and killing him in front of you. I can't take away the scars that have been spread across you from him or me or anyone else. I cannot destroy what you have come to love as a person as much as a master. I've heard you say the words through staggered breaths and tears. If I didn't care about what happened to you I would have let you fall. You can debate the fact all you want and hide behind this shame you wear like the fine dresses that constrict you, but it isn't I that have belittled you as you have so many others."_

"_Papa! Momma wants you," the squealing voice of the boy called from the doorway._

_He glanced at her briefly and sighed. She pulled away from him and faced the gardens without another word. He had drawn his lines in the sand and if she dared to cross them he would see who she really was. At her worst she was foolish and reckless. A masochist with a self-indulgent death wish. She had become her own worst enemy. _

"_I just need more time."_

Time was the perpetual foe that had interlaced its wire around her and snatched her back to a place he couldn't reach. He couldn't make it up to her. It was unrecoverable and all hope seemed to be lost to get her back. He had become so consumed with indecision and his place in the grand scheme that was inescapable. He wouldn't stop thinking about him and her. There was no 'and' anymore. The wedge that D'lara had played a hand in couldn't clear the gap so he could join her on the other side. He was stuck in the indistinguishable place of unacceptable disquieting despair.

Again he thought he glimpsed her walking amongst the men who followed her with hungry eyes. He met her glance and in his nervousness he averted his eyes to Danarius. It was an uncomfortable exchange that still lingered even in the severed landscape of poured wine and moving throngs of people. He waited for the ringing in his ears to stop before trying to catch a glimpse of her again. Yet, she was gone. There was no trace of her at all. The magister was saying something to him, but in the buzz of words and chaos he couldn't hear it.

"Let go of me!"

"Come on, Adria. Why won't you let me see what you have to offer? You give it up so freely; traipsing around like the courtesan to every man in this room."

"I said let me go!"

Fenris sprang forward in an instant. His pulled his sword halfway out as Danarius led him to the commotion. He was like an animal ready to strike at the perpetrator manhandling what wasn't his. He flared a bright blue when he saw the disheveled man holding Adria by the arm. He begged from within that she would not resort to magic to escape the clutches of this drunken dolt.

"Brother let her go," a magister warned.

He recognized the magister. He was but a youth and newly entered the Senate. The brother was a mundane with no trace of magic, but was the liaison for his older sibling. He reeked of cheap booze and sweat. The magister had nearly pounced on him when Danarius had broken through the crowd of onlookers. He took a submissive step back and let the owner of the angry property intervene.

"You seem to forget what belongs to you," Danarius growled.

"I'm sorry, Master Danarius," the magister stammered. "He's too intoxicated to be here. If you will allow it, I will take him at once."

Danarius hushed the man and glanced down at Fenris. He gently nodded and unleashed the fearsome elf on the man. Before he could get in a plea, he was inside him. Flesh and organs snagged on his jagged points. His hand moved from one corner to the next of the staggering man's torso. The man released Adria from his grasp and tried to fight the warrior off. At the same time, Fenris targeted his vital organs. He ripped apart the fragile lungs, causing the man to fountain blood from his mouth. Adria watched in satisfaction with folded arms as Fenris squeezed the final ounces of life from the profusely bleeding man.

He fell to the ground motionless. Danarius pulled his lead back and approached the shocked magister.

"Now you may take him and go," he hissed with glee.

The young magister nodded and hefted his brother up on to his shoulder and started for the door. People parted to let him pass but spoke with little discretion about what they had witnessed. The showman pointed out with more insistence than he'd ever done before about crossing the lines of ownership. He wouldn't stand for it and that Adria was rightfully his. It was his jealousy that had painted him a shade of red. His greyed hair became more vibrant and his deep eyes scoured the crowd for their acceptance at his words. Their master sent her upstairs to freshen up for the final show of the night.

* * *

><p>He could see her on the landing, sipping her wine with a concerned look on her face. She stared at him with intoxicated fear. The wine was the only way to stem the tide of coarse and violent indignation she had carried. Several slaves had entered and past him with derision in their step. Danarius had told them to bring him in and just as quickly they nodded and left.<p>

_Who's him?_

Danarius called to attention the small person being led in by the arm. He was hooded and muffled cries escaped through the blackened material. It was a child that stood before them. His head kept looking around in the perpetual darkness. Fenris looked up at Adria with confusion and to the tot whose tears had bled through the cloth.

"Fun," Danarius mumbled to his slave.

He forced the child around and pulled his dagger from his belt. Fenris was frozen with rage. He had to stand helplessly as the magister readied himself for the kill. Danarius handed the leash to Hadriana as a slow din of voices hushed each other for the spectacular performance. It was a quick action that took less than a second to enact. The clean cut bled heavily on to the floor. The dissonant whistle in the child's wind pipe gurgled and bubbled with newly excreted blood. The magister slit his own wrist and absorbed the essence of spilt blood with his own.

The master wielded magic with incredible precision that the spectators applauded and rejoiced in the skill he was showing. Fenris was disgusted by the sight of the young life executed and lying in the pooling red of its own blood. The easier it flowed the more Danarius used to illuminate the hall with fantastic sights and exhilarating features. In the distance he heard a woman wailing. It was faint and almost inaudible. He thought it was Adria, but saw the unsettling smirk that graced her face. She was enjoying it just as any mage there had been. He was disgusted by her repulsive attitude. He was right: she was no different.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away before taking another sip of deep red wine. After Danarius had exhausted every last drop the small body had to offer, slaves lugged the exsanguinated form from everyone's sight. Adria again disappeared. This time for the rest of the night. She had to have retired to her chamber for the evening. He didn't know whether to grieve for the lost soul that had been carted off like trash or pity the mother who bore him for her loss.

He made up his mind then and there. The magisters – Tevinter – would never recover with mages at its core. All those that lead are of the highest mages in most of Thedas. A land ruled by those that should not due to their corruptibility and if he could kill them all starting with Danarius, Hadriana, and Adria. It was the only way to break the cycle. This chain that had tethered him to the most vile and despicable people needed to be cut.

"Go check on Adria and see how she was doing," Danarius ordered with a stern glare. "She looked distraught."

Fenris nodded silently and headed up the stairs. His first victim awaited his arrival. He would finish her quickly and quietly as he had to so many others. She would suffer little, the final solace he could allow himself.

_You don't really want to kill her._

"Fenris!" D'lara called.

He spun around and saw the frantic woman with swollen eyes running to him. He stopped her and frowned. Something was wrong, very wrong.

"What is it?" he asked.

"He's dead! They killed him! Our baby!" she wailed. "It was that witch of a woman's idea. You know how much she's hated us being together and our child. You need to kill her. Avenge our son!"

Fenris shook in a rage he could barely control. His jaw clenched tightly when he looked at the master chamber doors. Just feet away the catalyst for D'lara's agony resided.

"I'll take care of it," he assured her.

"Can I be there when you do it?" she questioned in an unusually happy tone.

"No. I should deal with this on my own. Go back to your quarters and I will see you when it is over."

He couldn't wait for her to respond. He had to get in that room. Interrogate Adria for her implied role in the death of the child. How was it fair that the mistress lives and vindictively takes the life of the child he cared for? He loathed her and could only imagine what her response would be when he exacted his revenge on her.

_I don't know what I want anymore._

He pushed open the door and let it slam against the jamb. Adria had her back to him. Her arm rested on the hearth of the fireplace as if lost in thought. She said nothing to him nor did she acknowledge the percussive sound of wood on wood. Her hand was to her chest as if bracing her heart from escaping. She sniffled and took down the final swig of wine from the crystal glass before putting it back on the lip.

Adria turned and stopped when she saw him standing there. He could have easily ended it right there, but something told him that there was more to this story than what he was told. Her makeup was smeared with runny black lines. She reminded him of a harlequin mask she had once worn. Still worn yet so beautiful in the glow of the fire light he refused to face the stirring of emotions. He couldn't admit it to himself what he had conceived to do. He was going to be a weapon for someone else and for himself. An administrator of justice in a place where it was only meant for the elite.

"Fenris? What are you doing here?" Adria asked taking a step away from him.


	20. Chapter 20

She looked at his gaunt face and glumly shook her head. He was menacing in posture and the litheness of his muscled frame took a terrifying step in her direction. She was caged. Her only means of escape was behind him, blocked by the armed elf that stalked her every move. She tried to swallow down the fear that had lodged itself in her throat. Her voice wavered softly but words failed to emit a noise that he could ascertain.

She wiped away the runny lines and straightened up to hide her anguish and guilt. The way he looked at her with his head slightly down and the turbulent green eyes just peering through the veil of white bangs sent shivers down her spine. He was the predator that loomed over her with overpoweringly willful steps. They disappeared across the rug and without a thought she turned from him. She was overcome by emotions and dread for what was to happen.

She knew there was only one reason for him to be there. D'lara would have sent him. It was a pain that caused her intestines to knot with each exhale. She rested her head on the mantle and stared into the burning cache of heat and smoldering rage. It was a facet of life she knew all too well; the imagined personification of livelihood and raw power that consumed everything that it touched. She saw Fenris the same way. Everything he'd ever been near was devoured by his very presence. He was the assassin that hunted her soul. It was the only trophy Danarius had been unable to capture as the final prize in his safari.

"I've been waiting for you to come up here," Adria muttered callously. The last bits of her waning anxiety faded to ashes when his footsteps ended just behind her. She pulled a red handkerchief from her bodice and dabbed the falling red fetid lachrymal fluid. "It was only a matter of time before you decided on what to do with me. I'm guessing D'lara told you that this was my doing, right? She always seems to be the agitator in all things involving you. So what is it to be then? Are you going to rip my heart out or impale me with your weapon?"

"You can't even face me, witch!" he barked. "You are the one that caused the death of that child. It wasn't just Danarius or Hadriana, but you were a full participant in whatever they did."

"You're right. I'm just as guilty for not stopping them. You've already made your decision so why are you leaving this to linger? Just be done with it," she scowled. Her hands became fists that trembled with anger. "It doesn't matter if I face you or not. I'm not going to stop you."

"You're a coward, Adria. For all your bluster you are nothing but a child that can't face her impending death in a dignified manner," he prodded. "I want to watch the life drain from you as I had to watch it spill out of my child in front of so many people this evening. I'm owned it. D'lara is owed it. You're demise won't bring him back but we will be justified in seeking to avenge him."

"Vengeance?" she snorted. "What has that gotten anyone? You don't listen to reason and assume that I'm solely to blame for this. I warned you what would happen and it did. You're just a pawn in her little game. This isn't even really about the child, is it?"

"No. It's not," he grumbled. "This is about you and me. I thought you were different from them, but you are all alike. Everything that is magic destroys all the purity in this world. You are just another stain that can't be erased, but can be stopped to keep it from spreading."

She heard that ominous whir of power and the semi-sweet smell of lyrium. She held her breath and shuddered for what felt like the final time.

"Before you do this you need to know that I l-l-l…" she stuttered. "If I'm not to be forgiven then so be it. What would it take to prove to you that I would have done anything to keep your happiness from being dashed?"

* * *

><p><em>Hours earlier…<em>

She sat at Danarius' side on the floor. Her legs folded to the side under her flowing dress. Only the tips of her slippers poked out from under the deep blue skirt of her gown. She rested her head against his thigh and sighed from boredom. The magister had been reading at his desk, but hadn't told her why she was summoned. There was no sex act to follow her arrival; just the quiet skim of pages. He wasn't really taking in the text and from the look on his face; he seemed to be waiting for something. He patted her head delicately and continued his task in silence.

She was sickened with nausea that faded during the daylight hours only to emerge violently after darkness fell. Her stomach had been all aflutter and a strange heat emanated through her. She was tired, unnaturally so with no really recollection as to her ailment. The muscles in her stomach quivered uncontrollably. She felt the process start all over again. Her skin grew hot causing tiny beads to form on her damask flesh.

She looked up at Danarius who was watching the shades of grey pass over her pale complexion. He smiled at her gently and placed her head down again. She continued the tedious task of waiting. Her head throbbed to a beat all its own. She was famished at the faint smells of dinner being cooked downstairs.

She heard the door open and shut quietly. Danarius rose and walked around the desk. Adria peered over the desk but couldn't tell who he was speaking with. He was blocking her line of sight from the visitor that spoke little.

"It must be done. I don't care what he thinks. He doesn't have a say in what I do. He is mine and any child born under this roof is my property," the magister growled. "Don't worry about her. She'll be fine. She'll be indisposed once we get to Seheron. Right. Bring the boy this evening and we'll put an end to this charade. I'm tired of these games. He'll know once we get there that she is properly mine. That'll be all."

Adria sat back down and rested her head in the chair before he completed his return trek back to the desk. From the coarseness of his words she knew that he was talking about Fenris, but indisposed was a word that meant little to her. She was always busy with some fancy he forced upon her. She had been feeling ill for days now. Maybe he had taken notice and would be easier on her than he usually was.

"Master Danarius?" she cooed.

"What is it my dear?" he said softly.

She crawled on hands and knees to him and sat. He looked down at her with a hungry leer in his eye.

"Is there to be a sacrifice tonight?"

"There is, my love. Don't you worry your little head about it. Everything will be fine and we can put this whole matter behind us."

"What matter do you speak of, Master?" her head cocked.

"Ah, my dearest Adria. You will see."

He cleared his throat and helped her up. He spun her away from him and leaned her over the desk. It wasn't long before he was inside her. Her innards were tender with each stroke. She pressed against him as she gave in to her body's natural inclination of rapture. She gripped the sides of the desktop and panted along with her master's frenzied gasping. His fingers dug into her hips as he brought her to another climax. Her body ached from the involuntary spasms within her. There was no respite from his strides. His own release gave her body over to a hypersensitive tingling that swept over her body in sweltering heat and harsh afterglow.

He retracted from her and patted her on the backside. She adjusted the gown and smoothed the crumpled fabric back to its pristine condition. She bowed obediently and leaned against the desk. He kissed her gently, letting his lips linger just long enough to let her feel those deep after pangs erupt again. Danarius returned to his desk with a satisfied look on his face. Small trickles of sweat traced the aged contours of his face.

"Alright, Adria. I have to get to work. I will see you this evening. Now be a good girl and tell Hadriana that the little elf girl who Fenris has been flouncing around with will have her son taken away."

"Yes, Master," she said as calmly as she could.

She opened the door and stepped half-way out. Something stopped her from proceeding. It was an urge that begged to be fulfilled.

"Master Danarius, have they really been gallivanting?" she questioned.

"You think I don't know what goes on in my little wolf's mind? Just do as I said. No more questions."

She heard the giggling from downstairs and inside she wept for him. How was she going to explain it to him that the joy he had was to be executed before the magisters this evening? She could hardly stomach the thought of Fenris' reaction. So few words had passed between them that it would have been like warning a stranger of imminent doom. They wouldn't believe you or they might think you were crazy. Or in Fenris' case: ignore what she had to say all together because of her associations.

* * *

><p>She felt cold steel against her queasy abdomen. A warm body was pressed against her back and she felt at home again. The essences that was nearly overpowering to her senses made her skin goose bump at its inviting aroma. The soft feathering of his hair brushed her cheek and her head hit his shoulder. His hand glided over her neck. Her eyes rolled in anticipation of his next move. She felt his steamy breath on her year and gentle lips tickled her lobe.<p>

"Am I really supposed to believe that, witch?" his hoarse voice growled.

The stimulation from his contact with her shattered and her eyes enlarged at the brutal lilt in his tone. She struggled to release herself from his grip, but he compressed her body against his even tighter.

"It's the truth," she murmured.

He let her go and took a step away from her. She did a half-turn and rested her arm on the mantle. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head; weary from the run around and the sickness that seemed to grow in exponential strength. She held her stomach as if to stop the oncoming purging of the night's meal. She gagged a little, feeling the increase in saliva fill her mouth.

"You're lying," he snapped.

"Damn it, Fenris!" she yelped at the same time her fist inadvertently broke the crystal wine glass in two. She pulled her hand back and saw the deep gash that ran along the side in a jagged ribbon of red and meaty flesh. "It doesn't really change anything, does it?"

He grabbed her arm and looked at her wounded hand. Blood flowed from the wound as if running through a sieve. It ran over his already blood tainted gauntlets and through the articulated joints of his fingers to the floor; splashing his bare feet in spots of red. His eyes glazed at the injury. The subtle hint of white that peeked through the split skin every time her fingers twitched.

"What won't you tell me? Who was it he was speaking with?" he snarled. "You tell me so much now and omit important pieces. Why is that? You say you trust me, but how can I trust you when you not only sleep with the enemy but hide behind a story filled with half-truths."

"Because I want you to be happy," she answered sullenly. "Nothing about that point has changed."

He began to leave the room. His hand was placed firmly on the pommel of his blade. Adria continued to stare at the laceration. She wanted him to leave and not see her cry. Each ounce of energy she spent on fighting the oncoming storm of tears took more out of her than she could bear to accept.

"How can I be happy when the one thing that could have decides to stab me in the back? For your sake, I'm the one that should be happy for you. You finally got as you wished: I am alone with nothing."

Adria glared at him. He was so stubborn. So infuriating. Oh how she hated him. That overzealous hypocritical bastard. She picked up the bowl of the broken wine glass and hurled it at him. He ducked out of the way of the wild pitch and recovered with squinty stunned eyes.

"I never took anything from you! Your problem is with that son of a bitch Danarius. He's the one that caused this. Your feelings for me have nothing to do with this at all. You are angry, hurt and I understand that; but accusing me of something that I had limited involvement in does _not _give you the supposed self-absorbed right to turn me into the bogeyman who revels in the barbaric principles that these damned magisters do here."

"Cheap words from a mage. If Danarius hadn't decided to take away your ability to cast spells you would be doing what they do. How do I know you haven't made your deals with demons already?"

"Don't crucify me because of them," she fumed.

She picked the stem of the glass up from off the stone and started towards him. She wrapped her injured hand in the ruby colored cloth and felt it saturate with her blood. She was losing it. All of it was coming down around her. Her words to him became her own fate instead. How little she knew about serendipity and karma. An unheeded cryptic warning had gone unremarked and here she stood, ready to stab him. Whether she took the pain or not, she wanted him to feel how each slash of his cutting words left deep penetrating wounds in her.

"We have to let this go, Adria," he firmly stated.

He turned to leave her there shaking like a leaf in the anger seeped room. Both carried deep seated angry words that would have pierced them both causing fatal wounds. It couldn't end like this. He was rejecting her for something she had tried to commiserate with, but he was the coveted object that had forced her to face her demons on her own. She stared in to the face of love's betrayal and in her hands she felt the torn remnants of her broken heart.

"Who can't face me now, huh!" she yelped. "Go ahead and fall on your sword and push me aside because of what happened. You can't even kill me! So what is it! Do you want me to die or do you want to torture me for my sins?" She grabbed his arm and forced him around. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me. See how even if you don't physically inflict the fatal blow you are in fact killing me."

"I don't even know anymore," Fenris mumbled.

She placed her hand to his cheek and exhaled.

"You wanted more from this so-called life we lead and here I stand ready to fall to my knees and beg you not to walk out of my life again. Could you bear to see it or do you not care anymore?"

He closed his eyes and clasped his hand around hers gently.

"I do care; all I've ever wanted was you. But with Danarius and D'lara constantly looming in the shadows there is no possibility of there being an us. I have to accept that, as do you. Our dreams have to end and reality has to sink in before we break each other down further."

* * *

><p>Her demeanor changed right before his very eyes. The acrimonious glares that hid her heart of glass became fearful reflections of uninformative largeness. She wasn't even looking at him anymore. The room seemed to grow ice cold and the paranoid feeling that eyes were on him made him dread the thought of turning to see what was there.<p>

She rapidly pulled her hand from his and bowed her head. Her shoulders slumped and she cowered at the ever growing shadow. He caught a whiff of something caustic in the air: alchemical ingredients and sweat all hidden under the cover of musky, expensive cologne.

"Master Danarius," she chirped.

"Adria," he responded coldly.

"Is there something you need," she quietly asked.

"An explanation to what I've just overheard."

She could barely contain the rambling words that stumbled from her mouth before throwing herself at the magister's feet. She apologized repeatedly for letting stupid, sentimental emotions cloud her judgment. Danarius wasn't having it. His folded arms and with stiffened shoulders watched with little amusement to her pleas for forgiveness. He glanced at Fenris with an accusatory leer.

"Get up," Fenris mumbled. "It's not going to matter, Adria. We were caught."

Danarius patted her on the head and she calmed slightly. He looked at her adoringly and a flash of fury overwhelmed him. His scowling face focused on her with a desire that had gone untested in years.

"Fenris, leave us," he ordered without looking at him. She shot the elf a look of terror as she clung to their master's robe. "Get up, Adria. There's no need for the tears." She slowly rose and submissively looked to the floor. He wiped away her tears and sighed.

Fenris gave them a wide berth as he exited the room. He opened the door to his unlit accommodations. The door was left ajar letting in the dim light stream in. His eyes could hardly adjust before the candle beside his bed was kindled. D'lara was sitting on his hardened mattress. Her eyes were puffy from tears while she wiped the mucus away from her nose. She leaned against the wall and patted the vacant spot beside her.

"I couldn't do it," he remarked coldly before she could question him.

"I'm not here for that. I don't care about her. I need a shoulder. You and I have lost the greatest treasure of our lives. We need each other," she stated.

"I really just want to be alone."

"Why, so you can listen to them be in the throes of passion? Isn't that a little voyeuristic? Am I not important enough? Is your son not that important?" she snapped.

"It's not that," he said with a sigh. "Everything has spun out of control. Danarius is in there right now with her. I don't know whether to believe her or not and in my gut I know I've been crossed and double-crossed."

"That's paranoia talking. We can work this out, Fenris. I want to give you what you've needed for a long time. We haven't been intimate since that night where our child was conceived. We could always find happiness in each other's arms tonight?"

She slid off the bed and pressed him against the wall. She leaned in to kiss him. He resisted with every fiber of his being to keep from submitting to her. She unclasped the buckle of his belt and threw it on the bed. All he could think of was the division of him and his mistress uniting in a super nova's blast.

His ears perked at the absence of the celestial moans that escaped her throat in insurgent ecstasy. She was driving him insane. She was magic in its rawest form. She was inescapable and as much as he held his wounds that bled for two years he couldn't help but entertain the faintest excuse not to get her out of this place.

A violent thrashing broke him from his trance. He shoved the elven lass off of him and wiped his mouth dry of her sickening taste.

"Please not again," Adria's voice rang in an ear piercing wail.

"I told you what would happen if I caught you doing that again," Danarius bellowed.

Fenris flung open the door as a powerful slap echoed in the hallway. He saw her lying on the floor halfway out of the room. She lifted her head and saw him standing there. Her mouth oozed blood that dribbled over her pale, small hand. Her dress was nearly torn completely from her body. Newly emerging bruises appeared on her chest as she lifted off the floor.

"I'm sorry, Master Danarius," she wept.

He struck her again, sending her to the floor with a sickening thud. He held his leather whip in his hand and beat her till she could hardly move anymore. He heard the crunch of glass under the magister's boots from the shattered wine glass that Adria had thrown at him.

"I'm the one that loves you. I'm the one that cares for you. Have I not given you everything that you ever wanted?"

Each word was punctuated with a crack of the whip on every inch of bare flesh. It opened up long, bleeding wounds across her back that crisscrossed in uneven perpendicular lines. The tattered cloth absorbed most of the falling blood that slid down the sides, but the whip itself splattered blood in to the hallway itself. The walls were covered in tiny droplets from the castoff.

_Say yes. Tell him yes. It'll end if you just give in._

"No," she groaned.

_Damn it, Adria._

"What! You ungrateful little bitch! For fourteen years I raised you. Gave you the best tutors, singing lessons. Anything your heart desired I gave to you without question.

"It doesn't matter, _Danarius_!" she gurgled softly before turning her head and spitting a stream from her mouth. "You locked me in a hole for weeks, beat me and raped me and then called it love."

"You needed to be taught a lesson."

"You're not explaining it to me. You're trying to convince yourself."

_Stop provoking him. Damn it! Look at him! If he decides to kill you I can't do anything about it._

Danarius grabbed her ankle and dragged her through the broken shards back in to the room. She cried out as she rolled to her back and struggled to break free of the magister. She groaned briefly before conceding to him. He didn't miss a beat when it came to swift retribution. He didn't care who saw his corrective action.

She coughed sending a spray of misty blood into the air. He was heartless and uncaring to her condition. She could barely move anymore. Danarius aided her up by the hair and marched her to the stairs. He shot a cold look at Fenris before kissing the battered woman. He whispered something in her ear as he watched Fenris for a reaction. A sudden gasp escaped her. She flinched and leaned against him. Her hands, sloppy with vibrant, red blood gripped her stomach.

"I do. I'm sorry. Please, forgive me, my love," she choked out between wheezing breaths.

"Shhh, don't speak. I'm sorry," he hoarsely whispered.

"I know you are," she sputtered with a violent cough. "I'm sorry I couldn't admit it to you before."

"Why couldn't you just tell me?" he yelped unexpectedly.

"I didn't know how you'd react," she mumbled.

Fenris didn't know what he was witnessing. Was it her confession or a genuine apology to him mixed in with an admission? Danarius' arm jerked back and the sound of metal clattering to the floor made the warrior's stomach turn in knots. The master's hand was thick with her lifeblood. Her legs gave out and her upper body fell over his arm. He strained to pull her up to him again. Her hair was caked in drying blood. She was unrecognizable with the amounts of blood that coated her face. Her eyes were half open and vacant. He thought for sure she had succumbed to her injuries.

The magister checked her pulse and shuddered. He lifted her up and cradled her in his arms as a man would do to their significant other if they were in danger or injured. Except he was the danger and he was the one that caused her injuries.

"Go get the healer," he ordered the elf rapidly. "Be quick about it!"

XXXXX

He paced around the room. His thoughts were a flurry of delusions and fretful hindrances. He had completely forgotten that D'lara was in the room with him, watching his circuits that spanned the length of the small domicile. She cleared her throat to get his attention, but he refused to stop moving for fear that any slowing would cause the spiraling emotions to take over.

"You're cutting a hole in the floor," the elf snorted jokingly.

He glimpsed the slight smirk and continued on without a word. He hated waking the healer at the late hour. He was always scolded at the door as the mage readied for another trip to the estate. He questioned if she had lost it and Fenris didn't understand. Lost what? Her temper? Control? Had he just misheard what he was being questioned about? Did Danarius lose control of himself again and nearly kill her? He could only nod in obliviousness.

It was the only time he was allowed to roam the streets alone. He'd always considered the possibility of taking flight and leaving this troublesome place. If it wasn't for Adria that bound him to this location, he'd have fled a long time ago.

He couldn't live with the idea of leaving her to face Danarius' wrath in the event he escaped. He suffered for it – for her - to keep the magister at bay. Even the cost of freedom seemed too high for him. He wouldn't know where to begin with the newly unbound sense of self. Would Danarius hunt him down and drag him back? Would Adria ultimately pay in the end for his greed? She would never forgive him. No, if he was to leave, she would come with him. He would take care of her the only way he knew how. He was willing to kill for her to keep her safe, but Danarius was untouchable in his estate with so many guards, they'd never get out with their lives.

The things that Danarius did to her for whatever reason, whether it was to slake a bloodthirsty hatred he had or an overwhelming desire to fight the inevitable attachment that had so casually corrupted his stony heart and replaced it with one that is of any other mortal man's. The look in his eyes when he bid him to fetch the mage was one he'd never thought to see. It was fear; raw fear that had punctured him and sent the usually stoic and devious man into fits of coddled bargaining and apologies.

"_I've gone too far…"_

He kept repeating it out loud for everyone to hear. She had that way about her: sending people into a blind rage for sheer amusement, but he never wished this on her. The man looked insane holding her blood caked hands and the pouring of blood that escaped from her abdomen. It was too much. It happened too fast for either of them to comprehend. In the heat of the moment, he just lost it. If she died it would be a crime of passion on his part.

He stopped and scowled. A small part of him sympathized with the bastard. He wholly hated him and if Adria did indeed perish at the hand of Danarius for their inappropriate interaction, then he was the one who might as well put the blade in the magister's hand himself. His action – or rather inaction – had cost him the security he thought he once had. She didn't deserve it. Even defying the magister was a death sentence for him, but Adria held a special place in Danarius' heart. He never thought it possible that the despicable old man would have feelings beyond the pride and greed that he coveted to attain.

The thought of him loving her was an inconceivable notion. It was a sick and twisted sort of love. If it even fell under the context of love at all. He more likely lusted for her and got his wishes granted between the sheets on a nightly basis. It was those fleeting tender moments that he had seen between them. The way he looked at her when she entered a room and held her close. It would have been something he would have taken the honor in.

"You should have known it would come to this eventually. She's a slave just like everyone else," D'lara said.

"Why are you still in here?" he growled.

"Did you see the extent of her injuries?" she asked with an overjoyed lilt in her voice. She crawled on hands and knees to the foot of his bed and stared at him with shimmering eyes. "Let's hope she doesn't survive the night."

"How can you say that?" he snapped.

"The shem doesn't deserve to live for what she's done!" she belted with a laugh.

"I think you should go. Grieve for your son elsewhere and leave me in peace."

"_Our _son," she corrected, scooting from the bed and strolled to the door. "You heard what she said. She loves him – not you – regardless of what you think. Whatever she told you was an obvious lie to keep us apart. I hope now you can see it. The shem deserves to die. For hurting you and betraying your trust. She used your emotions for her to her advantage. She took away our child and yet you hold a candle as a vigil to something that never existed."

She left him standing there in the dimming light. His head throbbed. His skin burned and the pain that seemed to never leave flared in a tingling that grew in intensity. He winced as his nerves sent those sensitive signals to his brain. He held his side where he'd been stabbed by Hadriana. The sunken in scar had remained as reminder to the night he found out he could never escape her. How far did the pain have to go before it hurt her? His injuries were hers. The ones that were inflicted on her he would never feel physically. He didn't need to. The sickening feeling he got at the splatters of blood and pools that stained the carpets were enough to mentally feel it.

Talking drove him to leave his room. The door to Danarius' room was barely open, but voices came from within. The sound of metal hitting metal and swirling liquid drew to investigate further. He could make out a person at the foot of the bed in front of her. A small table was to the left of him and perched a large bowl with a metal instrument in it. The mage was muttering to Danarius about her injuries when his task was finished.

He nodded to the man at her feet. The apprentice took the medical instrument and began to work on her. It was an oddly shaped tool. He moved quickly between Adria and the bowl throwing gelatinous matter into the dish. It was several minutes before his task was done. He saw Danarius come into view and lean over her as the young apprentice rounded the bed and cleaned the blood from her inner thighs. The bed was covered in it. He could smell it and the rank hints of antiseptic and elfroot. He looked at the wall and saw the tailed dots of coagulating blood trail from floor to ceiling.

"Will I be able to give her what she wanted?" Danarius finally asked sweeping her bangs from her face.

"It's hard to tell at this point, Magister," the mage stated with a sigh. "It'll take some time before you can try again, but with some luck and consideration on your part it might be possible."

"I don't think she even knew yet," he muttered.

"Maybe it's something you should discuss with her then," the apprentice chimed.

"Silence, boy!" the mage snapped. "How did the procedure go?"

"It was relatively easy, but it doesn't get any easier," the apprentice answered sadly.

The healer and the apprentice walked back to the foot of the bed. The younger man picked up the bowl and tucked it under his arm gently. Fenris took a step back to keep from being seen. The apprentice glanced behind him curiously and continued to talk with the elder mages.

He hurried to his room and stood against the wall with the door open. He could barely make out what they were speaking about now, but the conversation was nearing an end. The door creaked open and the healer questioned Danarius about his departure from Minrathous. He warned against further bleeding and that she should be able to go in the morning only to repeat that he should take it easy.

"_The next beating might just kill her._"

The two men headed for the stairs. Fenris could hear the sloshing of water hitting the stairs and as he hurried to the railing to see what they had been guarding against discovery he caught a glimpse of what had been hidden. Fleshy pieces floated on top of the pink water. He grew nauseas. Clots of black and purple circled around the bowl and in his gut he knew it wasn't a standard injury that had been inflicted on her.

"We'll burn the contents and sterilize the equipment. Danarius paid us handsomely to keep this quiet. Maker help that girl if he pulls another attack like that," the healer muttered.

"Do you really think he's going to try again?"

"It's inevitable. You haven't heard the rumors yet, but eventually you will hear the gossip about him. It's sad to be honest. She's nothing but cattle but of a stock that has been nurtured by the finest things that money can buy under dire circumstances."

Fenris looked into the magister's room and saw a truly baffling scene. Danarius had curled himself up next to her. His head rested on the same pillow hers resided on. He placed her hands gently on her stomach and kissed her cheek. He could have been mistaken, but he thought he heard him whispering to her. His mouth would move, but he couldn't make out his words.

"What did you do to her now?" he muttered under his breath.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He was exhausted and as he rubbed the burning from his eyes he swore up and down that if he had the chance he would kill him. He could never leave her now. If Danarius managed to pull off whatever he planned to do again, he would be there to put a stop to it. Even if it meant the full cost of his life was to be spent. Mage or no, he couldn't allow it to happen again.

"_That's your chivalrous side talking," _ Adria's voice chuckled. "_I thought you didn't care_."

"Don't read in to it too much," he grumbled. "You still belong to him."

"_So what then?" _she questioned_._

"Until I figure it out you will stay that way," he answered softly to himself.


	21. Chapter 21

_Six months later…_

He had to get them out of the city. Bells from the Chantry in the upper levels of the city chimed the warning alarm for the impending attack. The city was in chaos as a massive wave of people rushed to get away from the Qunari's nearing assault. He was in the lead with Adria pulling up the rear. Shrieks were following as the attackers broke through barriers and headed in all directions. He was running out of time to get them to safety.

He could see the docks growing closer as they turned the final corner on to the eerily vacant street. Plumes of smoke gravitated into the atmosphere, marking the direction they had come from. He saw movement going into an alley that led in the opposite direction of their target. Danarius held Adria's hand firmly in his and held her up against the wall to catch her breath. Fenris put his hand up to stop them from moving forward and peered around the corner. A mother on the stoop of a ramshackle building cradled a limp bodied child in her arms. She wept and prayed for the small dirty child to open its eyes.

As he scanned the horizon, he saw the multitudes of puffy sails drifting further from the land. He waved them along as quickly as he could. The stifling air had slowed the magister and his mistress. Even with the cool ocean breeze wafting up to them, it couldn't save them from the beating down of the sun. The metal of his gauntlets were burning his fingers and the leather of his armor refused to let his skin breathe.

More shrieking was following them down the long avenue. The Qunari were getting closer and wouldn't hesitate in keeping them there. The gates to the docks were starting to close as they bolted the final feet to the docks. Dock workers that had remained let them slip by to reach the final ship before it departed. Fenris sheathed his weapon as they hurried along the wooden deck to the gangplank where others were waiting to board. He kept looking over his shoulder at the carnage that was obviously being played out throughout the city.

The magister started up the ramp while Fenris kept watch for any signs of the invaders. Adria stood beside him just long enough to step foot on the ramp and have it start to slide out from under her. The warrior caught her by the arm and pulled her back beside him. They looked at Danarius and he was yelling to them. He was shocked and infuriated. The captain had his hand pressed in to his chest as he tried to explain the situation.

"We have to go," Fenris warned the fearful woman with a sharp tug.

They ran for the gates and slid in to one of the buildings when a qunari patrol came in to view. He drew his blade and pressed her against the wall. His hand held her chest firmly. Her heart was racing like it was trying to break free from its cage. He heard the detail of giants talking amongst themselves. They were close only stopping briefly to look around. When they continued their canvas of the city he lowered his hand and nudged the door closed as quietly as he could with his foot.

"What do we do now," she questioned in a barely audible whisper.

"We'll have to camp here till night fall. It'll make it easier to get passed them. Hopefully there won't be too many at the gates and we can get out of the city," he explained as his eyes darted around the room for a hiding spot.

A rickety ladder led up to a loft. The perfect vantage point to keep an eye on the patrols and it was fairly decent as a defensible position. He pointed it out to her and hurried her gently up. She looked down at him with woeful eyes. She was on the verge of tears. He could understand her plight. Being out in the open without the safety and security of the large stone walls to protect her made her feel completely exposed. Now, Danarius was gone and it was the two of them. The only thing separating them from surviving was a small contingent of qunari foot soldiers.

He followed her up and pulled the ladder up to keep patrols from springing up on them unexpectedly. The small warehouse had numerous trap doors and ladders. She watched him move from one end of the building to the other latching the trap doors with ladders withdrawn. Adria placed herself along the far wall and curled up in to a ball. He couldn't help but watch her become overwhelmed by fierce emotions. He stood near her and peeked out the window to get his bearings on where the nearest gate out of the city was.

By now the city would be completely inundated with warriors. The perimeter would be well guarded and the odds would be even less if they didn't make haste once night fell. He would have to fight for both of them if they were to get out of this alive. He didn't want her using her demon magic at any cost. If she injured herself at any point he would have to leave her to deal with her own life.

"I'm scared," her small voice eked.

He frowned and sat down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. In six months it had been the first physical contact that they had. He had been very cautious as to not draw attention to himself with Danarius around with his looks. They had all shared the same room given the violent longevity that the war between Tevinter and the Qunari had brought. It was a paranoia that drove most to leave prematurely.

"Try to rest," he whispered to her. "I will wake you when its time."

She rested her head on his chest and breathed a weighty sigh. Her hand fell in to his lap the more she burrowed in to him. She was fretful and thrashed until she glanced at him with bleary eyes and placed her head in his lap. He tried to stay relaxed for her till her eyes shut. His head fell against the wall and once her breathing evened out he lifted her small hand and looked at the small gold and sapphire encrusted ring that adorned her finger.

It was the latest binding agent that Danarius used to keep her from him. The price she finally had to pay to find the supposed modicum of happiness that he thought she deserved. It was handcrafted specifically for her. He was there when the magister spoke to the jeweler and picked out the details. For what it was meant to be, he figured that it was just another trinket like all the other ones had been. He couldn't have been more wrong about the significance of it.

* * *

><p><em>Two months earlier…<em>

It was like any other night in the estate. Danarius and Adria were served their dinner on the balcony that overlooked the city. It was a balmy night that the magister had her specially prepare for. They dined on fragrant foods and laughed through sips of wine. He could only stand watch. His lead harnessed to a large I-bolt that anchored in to the wall. It was where he slept; on a hard floor near his mistress.

Her tightly bound dress of silken hand-stitched fabric swished as she rose to look out on to the twinkling lights of the buildings. He could only picture that frail woman who held the tattered and twice-stitched golem doll under her arm on the trip to Seheron. Danarius had been acting peculiar most of the day. His usually clear stated words became a fluster of chaotic broken orders and insistent rambling.

"I have something for you," he muttered. The confidence seemed to drain from him as she looked up at him. "I've been thinking about certain things that I know you yourself have pondered. I've treated you poorly too many times and apologies won't take back what has happened." He sighed nervously and for what seemed like an eternity he stopped. Adria stared at him curiously, her head cocked with wonder.

"Whatever it is you have to say, just say it," she said softly.

"Now I feel sheepish," he snorted. "Of all the women I've taken and lives that I have tossed aside you seem the only one that has withstood the test of time. You can bring a grown man to his knees with the gentlest of glances. Even when he doesn't deserve them. There's only so much I can do to show you what I mean. I'm no good at this stuff."

"It's alright," she cooed.

He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. He put a finger to her lips and continued to talk to her. She nodded slowly and glanced at Fenris. She frowned and shook her head. It went on for several minutes before she moved her head again with an even slower nod. When Danarius pulled away he held up her hand and slid the small ring on to her finger.

He didn't understand what had taken place between them. He watched them kiss with a swift action he had her pinned against the wall. His hands unlaced her bodice and let the dress fall to the floor leaving her in a sheer negligee. He kissed her neck and she looked at Fenris, even in the darkness he could see her crying. It was the most dreaded thought that struck him hardest like a sock to the gut. She couldn't be his any longer and all those nights he had imagined himself in Danarius' place were shattered when he placed her on the bed and those passionate longings became a nightmare in reality.

He closed his eyes to keep from witnessing their acts on the blankets. Her moans, his grunts, a cacophony of heated exchanges that made him fall apart. The louder she became the more it tugged at him. It was the first time since being there that they had consummated their relationship. He was breaking her all over again. She yelped in pain only to be hushed again. He opened his eyes and glimpsed her watching him as her head hung over the side of the bed.

He turned away from her and met with the hazy reflection of the two of them in fluid motions. It was the last thing he wanted to see. The glisten of her skin in the moonlight and the tear of fabric as he ravaged her in hungry anticipation were framed in the large mirror across the room. He could see it all. Each thrust that was made in jerky motions. Her back arching as she climaxed. The gasps that escaped her- the deeper he penetrated her.

He shook his head and tried to change the way he viewed it. A fantasy of sorts, but Danarius leering at him through the mirror held him from it. The look of complete and utter satisfaction angered him. He was making him watch what he was doing. It was the final nail in any chance of Adria being his. All his conjured erotic dreams were defiled now. Nothing was sacred. There was no place he wouldn't go to prove his point that she belonged to him.

He looked to the floor and the heavy chain that held him from lunging at the man. It wasn't her fault it was her duty to do this and for the most part she put on a pretty convincing show of it. Her master was over her kissing her. Her delicate fingers clawed his back as she gave way again. It was enough this time to send him over and collapse on top of her. He rolled off and dressed. She got on her knees and threw her arms around him. She whispered to him and he chuckled softly in amusement.

"I'll be back, dearest," he stated.

"I might be asleep when you return," she chortled.

"If you are, I'll try to be quiet," he remarked. He rose from the bed and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

He left them alone. Neither could speak a word to each other. She had her back to him and the silvery raised scars on her back still shone through her torn gown. He heard her crying. Her head fell in to her hands. With shoulders shaking she bawled. All he wanted to do was console her. He began to walk to her when the heavy leash pulled him back. He adjusted it again and leaned against the wall.

"He's keeping me forever," she muttered softly. "There's no way for us to get our chance."

* * *

><p>The door downstairs opened and jolted him from his waking nightmare. Adria was still in his lap curled in to a ball and sniffling in her own dreams. The sky had turned a lavender amongst a sea of blood-orange. He stirred her gently as to not startle her. Her eyes opened slowly and she yawned.<p>

"Shhh," he uttered.

He stood up and peered out the window. Several qunari were outside the premises. He groaned and rubbed the sweat from his brow in thought.

"What is it?" she questioned.

"We have to get out of here," he snapped.

"But it's not dark yet," she argued.

"It doesn't matter now. We have to chance it."

He helped her up and took her to the far end of the building. He held her close as he opened the trap door and laid on his stomach. His head hung through the ceiling and he swore under his breath. There were two qunari going through the aisles. They threw things from shelves and continued on. He picked himself up and closed the latch again.

"What do we do?" she squealed.

"Calm down. I promise I won't let anything happen to you." She threw her arms around him and trembled. "Stay here, I'm going to see if the patrol has moved on. Stay quiet."

He snuck a quick peek at the armed militia and scowled. The two qunari emerged from the building and spoke with the group. The leader waved them along. They took a corner going in the opposite direction than the one that they needed. He waved Adria over and lowered the ladder down for her. He took the lead and helped her down. He withdrew his sword and grabbed her hand.

They walked the winding streets, sticking to as many alleyways that they could to stay off the main road. They hid in covered doorways in the shadows. He pressed his body against hers to protect her in case they were caught. His hand covered her mouth when a patrol would pass. Her breathing quickened and she squirmed under the pressure of his weight. He rested his hand against her hip to pin her down and a flurry of adrenaline coursed through him. Her eyes were wild with fear and excitement.

It was the freedom that they wanted. They weren't under Danarius' watchful eye. They were alone with each other; with nothing to stop them for enacting on those forbidden thoughts that had kept him up countless nights. He took pleasure in her wiggling against him and if the thought of impending death hadn't intervened he'd have taken drastic measures to enforce his will on her.

"Are you alright," he finally asked when the coast was clear.

"I think so," she replied.

"It's not too much farther."

The first stars started to shimmer in the dusky night. Cicada bugs buzzed their courtship tunes and the mosquitoes swarmed in clouds of bloodthirsty hunters. They reached the far wall of the city and stopped. Adria was out of breath and coughing forcefully. He couldn't quiet her. She looked up at him, sweat poured from her ashen face. She looked ill again.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she groaned.

"Now?"

She leaned her head against the wall and hacked in to her hand. She looked at it briefly and gasped. The palm of her hand was splattered with bright red blood. She staggered and fell against him.

"It can't be happening again."

"We're almost there. We'll get you help once we get out of here." She grew heavier and her head dropped. "Adria. Come on." He lifted her unconscious body up and took a step on to the street. A handful of qunari were at the gate. He shook her till she came to. She startled and swung wildly. He grabbed her wrists with his hand and calmed her. "We have to get past those guards and we're out of here. I want you to stay here."

"I can help," she pleaded.

"No," he scolded her gently. "You know what will happen if you use magic."

"But if you get hurt, it's not going to matter either way."

"Adria, please. We don't have much time," he insisted.

"Be careful," she murmured.

He brushed her bangs away and shuddered. If it wasn't for the metal tips that protected his fingers he would have let the sensation of her skin against his swallow him whole. He pointed her back to the alley and waited till she was well hidden.

He rushed them before they noticed. He was quick and ruthless in his swings. The large blade disemboweled one of the giants and took the limb from another in one swing. He dodged an incoming spear and cleaved the pitcher across the head splitting it in two. He was so drawn on the combatants in front of him that he hadn't noticed that he was being flanked.

He spun when the last horned behemoth fell to the ground. His hands were covered in qunari blood and even with the textured handle his hand began to slip. He slapped another javelin throw to the side and was met with a second one to the shoulder. He stumbled back and wrenched the simple weapon out. They were closing in on him when Adria came from around the corner. She was gripping her shoulder as her hand traced the wall.

She lit up the night sky in a huge burst of flame that threw him back. He hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of him. Another patrol of qunari was making its way in their direction. He looked at Adria on her knees. Her hands were over her eyes. She was rubbing them feverishly. Blood poured from between her fingers and dripped to the ground. A volley of spears began to rain down and landed just feet from him. Out of breath and wounded he called to the mage. She was gasping and gagging in front of him.

He dragged her through the gate and in to the blackened jungles. The screams of the incoming qunari pursuers kept him stumbling into the darkness. They went off the road towards the thick brush to throw them off and ran till his feet couldn't carry him anymore. His feet were cut and bleeding from jagged rocks and thorny bushes. He propped himself against a tree and watched as numerous torches bobbed along the road in the distance.

When the surge of adrenaline plummeted, he slid to the ground and winced in agony. Adria had grown silent in the passing minutes. He felt for her in the thick consuming darkness. He met her hand and squeezed it gently. He panted when the shock finally hit him. He shook and dry heaved until his stomach couldn't take it any longer. He was dizzy and as the world swung around him rapid revolutions he felt himself being laid on the ground.

"I can fix this," Adria said gently, just inches from his face. He felt her hands examining his wounded body. Droplets of fluid hit his armor like a small rain shower.

"No magic," he scowled. "I will not have you using it on me."

Her hand stopped at his shoulder. He growled angrily as she stuck her finger into the gaping hole.

"Would you rather die from infection or blood loss," she snapped.

"What about you? You're injured too. You didn't need to cause harm to yourself to save me. I was fine."

"Yes, being impaled by a spear just speaks of being fine," she remarked sarcastically.

"There's no need to be snide," he grumbled.

"There's plenty reason to be snide when you're acting like a child," she muttered.

"I only act like this because I don't want to see you get hurt again," he explained.

"Hush," she uttered. "It's my burden to bear."

The jungles radiated with a phosphorescent green. It illuminated her face just enough for him to see her eyes slammed shut as drops of blood streamed from the corners. Her dark make up gave her a shade of white. She bit her lip exposing her small even teeth. He could feel himself being wrapped in a blanket of serenity. Her hands hovered over him and swept across him. His pain ebbed and was replaced by the cold embrace of sleep beckoning him to give in.

The mild night air carried the orchestrations of various fauna. It became a buzz in his ears. His eyes closed while she worked. He could still feel her working on him until the weariness destroyed the rest of his ability to resist the call of slumber.

* * *

><p>He shot up with a start. Vertigo took hold briefly before letting the rapid stirring of the world settle around him again. His blurry vision cleared to a small tent surrounding him. Voices were coming from outside. He looked beside him and saw that Adria was missing. He jumped from the covers when a hot breeze caressed his bare skin. His eyes scanned his body. Not a scrap of clothing covered him from the elements. He hid his nudity with his hands and searched the small space for something to dress himself in.<p>

The flap opened and in walked an elf dressed in drab clothing. The burlap britches hung loosely on his small frame. Makeshift sandals covered his feet with a little stocking cap on his head. He smiled warmly at him and closed the flap behind him. There was giggling coming from behind him. Children were running around playing and it was almost too sappy for his tastes. He had no idea where he was or who was beaming from ear to ear at him.

"It's good to see you well," the elf stated. "I'm Imogen. I guess you'd call me the welcome wagon for us."

He extended a hand to him, but the apprehensive elf took a step back. The host frowned and withdrew his welcome casually.

"Where am I?" Fenris questioned. "Where's Adria?"

"The woman that was with you? She is fine. She sustained some very peculiar injuries. Our healer had a difficult time stabilizing her. You're lucky we found you two when we did." He held up a stack of clothes and handed it to Fenris with a cheerful smile. "The armor you had with you is under your pillow. Your friend has been asking about you since she awoke."

"She is alright though?" he asked with more insistence.

Imogen frowned and sighed. Fenris' breathing hitched at the sudden change in expression.

"The healer would like to speak to you privately before you see her. Certain procedures had to be enacted for her to survive. She already knows about them and she will recover fully, though please tread lightly around her," the elf warned.

Fenris quickly changed into the scratchy burlap slacks and pulled the shirt over his head. It was strange to be in something so loose. It was something he couldn't remember experiencing before. The unfamiliar trappings of cloth and twine were uncomfortable. He pulled the flap back and stepped in to the soggy air of the mid-afternoon. He inhaled the sweet air and exhaled the dread from his body. He stretched his muscles and found all sorts of races about the small camp. Qunari, elf, human all were intermingling around several campfires that boasted some stew in cast iron pots.

A tall qunari with its horns cut approached him. He was intimidating and masked. He limped with a thick staff guiding his way. Imogen introduced the two of them. The gravel in his baritone voice shook Fenris' foundation.

"I'm Saarebas," the qunari grumbled. "Healer to this group of warriors and advisor to many of the new people here."

"You wanted to speak with me," Fenris grumbled.

"Right to business. I like that. Imogen leave us." The cheerful elf bowed politely and left the two of them. "Walk with me, Fenris. We have much to discuss."

"How's Adria?"

"The saarebas? She is fine. Though there are some troubling things that I have found out. I have some questions that need to be answered. If you will indulge me."

"Saarebas? Aren't you-? Yes, I will try my best to answer whatever I can," Fenris answered as they walked around the encampment.

People stopped and looked at him. Whispers and stares were a common occurrence for him so this mattered little to him. The children that ran screaming around the camp brought back memories of his child from months before. He had refused to let himself grieve over that loss. Now he stood amongst those who were welcoming and didn't question him. Men and women that even with their curiosities were polite and greeted him with open arms.

"Do not trouble yourself with the title; it is something that I have become accustomed to in my years amongst the qunari. She is a mage? That is all it means. You will find no trouble amongst us with her presence. I have had the delight honor of speaking with her, if briefly. She is a strange woman to speak with. Many scars are brandished on that child's soul, but I am sure you know this already. So the questions that I have for you are quite small, but will aid in how we handle her special case.

You were slaves, yes? Did your master die in the raid?"

"No, he was sent back to Minrathous. We were left stranded here."

"This Adria, she was a special slave to your master?"

"She was his mistress."

"The markings engraved on her, is this common where you are from?"

"Not that I know of. I know very little about what went in to our rites. I do know, however, that her brands cause her to endure excruciating pain if she casts magic or if physical trauma occurs to me."

"That would explain what has happened to her," Saarebas stated with a nod. "She seems to cower from strangers and she refuses to come out from her tent. We've had to bandage her eyes to protect them from the light. We should be able to take them off in a couple of days or so."

"So what happened to her? Imogen said you had to do some procedure to save her," Fenris questioned nervously.

"Yes, certain steps had to be taken to save her life. The cost was certainly great."

"What was it? Spit it out."

The mage raised his hand to calm him and stopped in front of a tent across the camp from where they started. The roaring river yards away rushed by at incredible speed, along the banks frothy foam ebbed on rocks and plant life. There was something tranquil about the white water rapids that broke upon the jagged rocks in the murky water.

"I'll let her tell you. If you both wish to stay together to assuage some of her fears that is fine. I understand that she's spent the majority of her life behind walls so this is an overpowering experience for her. She is not the first to come to us from being in captivity. With time she will relax and realize she has nothing to fear. Her anxiety is understandable given what she has endured. This newly attained freedom you two have achieved will be an eye opening lesson for the both of you. But you are amongst friends and we will aid you in this process in whatever we can. I will leave you to tend to your friend. I look forward to seeing you two at dinner this evening."

Imogen came up to them and led the weathered qunari away. Fenris stood outside the tent and frowned. He couldn't help but feel nervous as to what he would find on the other side of the thick cloth. He scratched his head and swallowed his fears in to the pit of his stomach.

"Adria?" his gravelly voice gently called.

"Come in, Fenris," she responded weakly.

He slipped through the door and crawled to her. She was sitting up in the bed atop skins of animals and cloth. She was in a simple dress. The vested bodice held her snuggly and laced in the front with hemp rope. Her patchwork skirt was laid out in a circle around her. Her head was lowered as if to hide the bandages that wrapped around her head.

"Are you alright?"

She feigned a smile and nodded. Her pale lips, devoid of its familiar color, quivered meekly. The fine slit from a healing wound was the only color that blemished her supple lips. Her finger kneaded the coarse fabric. The ring she had been given hung on a cord around her neck along with a key. He recognized it as the one that would unlock the collar that he wore when in Danarius' service. He remembered that she was the one that had unshackled him before they fled the estate, much to their master's berating. She stood fast in her decision to free him saying that it would help him fight better if he could actually see what he was fighting.

"I've been better."

"I spoke with the healer. What happened to you?"

"I should have listened to you," she muttered.

He placed his hand on hers and the toiling that they continued to do slow until coming to a stop as two fists heaped in fabric. He lifted her chin and watched as red spots bled through. She pulled away from him and sniffled.

"It's alright. You can tell me," he assured her in a soothing tone.

"This reminds me of the night before your ritual. Without the gags and bondage," she chuckled. Her face contorted in to a frown and she began to cry. "What is the price of freedom?"

"I don't know," he answered with a quirked eyebrow.

"What do you think it was to save your life?"

He thought for a moment and shook his head. He was at a loss to this line of questioning.

"I don't understand."

"A life for a life."

He stared at her wide-eyed and shocked. He didn't know what to say or where to begin. She leaned over her knees and sobbed in to her hands. He wanted to be happy, considering his own losses and the fact that it was Danarius' spawn that had invaded her body, but he could only place his hand on her back and rub it gently with gentle whispers of sadness.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"It's not your fault. It's Danarius' for putting this blasted thing in my body. Not once but twice. The healer removed a foreign object that had been implanted in me, I guess, during my ritual. The pregnancy I guess wasn't viable anyways. The pain was a rupture. I was bleeding internally and that's how they found it. If they hadn't found me, I would have bled out a few hours after I lost consciousness."

"But what happened to your eyes? The healer said you suffered an injury."

"Right. It's one I've had before. The degree of damage done this time is more severe, but should heal in a couple of weeks."

"So technically you are blind?"

"Technically. Do you want to see?"

"I don't know if I should."

"It's alright. We're in the shade. There's no direct sunlight and it would be brief."

Her hands searched for his. She patted it gently and lifted it to her face. He methodically lifted it over her head. She closed her eyes when it was removed and sat motionless. She turned away from him, her face filling with the red blush of shame. She shuddered and stifled another onset of tears.

"It's alright. We don't have to do this now."

"You've never seen me like this. I've always been dolled up to hide everything from you. The ugliness that I've had to shield on behalf of Danarius' pride and my hatred has always been the only flaw I could paint away."

Small tears hit his thumb hot and red as he turned her head to face him. He could see the black eyes and various bruises around her neck that were in varying stages of healing. They couldn't possibly be new. He would have noticed another brutal assault at the hand of the magister. He wasn't going to even ask how she got them. It wasn't any of his business. Why hadn't she said anything? How could she deal with such abuse with nary a whisper of pain? Maybe she had and he wasn't around for it. There were times of the day where he was left caged like an animal in the master's chamber for hours at a time.

"You don't need to explain anything to me."

"It's why I said yes to him. He said it would end. That I would raise in station and he wouldn't lay a hand on me again. It was a lie. Every day became a struggle to keep him in control. I thought it would be different. The constant threat of your execution kept me in line. That's why I didn't say anything to you. It was a mistake and one that I paid for. The night before the attack was small in comparison to the others you've no doubt witnessed."

He brushed aside her bangs and let his head touch her forehead. She opened her eyes slowly and looked up at him. Her eyes squinted when he pulled back to look at her. The whites of her eyes were a deep red that surrounded almost supernatural green irises. Even the violent and corrupted purity was unmatched in how vibrant the color was. Her pupils narrowed to pin points and her lids closed again with a sigh.

"I don't want you to look," she muttered.

"It's alright. You're still beautiful, regardless."

He had seen that before. The healer that resided at the estate had called it hyphema. The first time he saw it was two weeks after their arrival in Seheron. Adria had been veiled since the day they left Minrathous. She refused to take it off in his presence and many of the sailor's on the ship had made comments about a malady that had befallen the young lady.

It wasn't until Danarius had sat her down to examine her with the healer. The magister lifted the veil like a groom would his bride and knelt beside her as she refused to open her eyes to them. They waited patiently until eventually the small slits turned in to wide eyed terror. She was looking directly at him. Thankfully, for her, the healer stepped in front of him and made a quick examination and gave her a list of potions to drink. It was another week after that before she began to walk around without obscuring device blocking his view of her.

"Could you put it back on? My eyes are starting to hurt," she asked politely.

He helped her put it back on and stood to stretch his legs. Her head cocked as she listened for him.

"The healer said I could stay with you if you wish till you acclimate to your surroundings," he stated with slight hesitation.

"I won't force you to if that is not what you desire."

He smirked to himself and helped her stand up when she motioned.

"I could do that. There's no point in us being separated. We've been through enough to last a life time. This freedom we have now achieved will not be spoiled by sleeping apart."

"Just be a gentleman," she snorted.

"I was not taught such things, but it'll be amusing to try," he prodded.

"I'm sure," she giggled.

She staggered backwards slightly. Her weakened legs were like jelly. He held her close and led her out of the tent. Her head rapidly turned in the direction of songbirds and laughing children. She limped a few steps and stopped. She hunched over and gasped. He held her waist and waited for her to proceed. Her black hair fell over his arm and in the breeze he could still smell the dragon's blood that radiated from her.

As she stumbled forward with her hand on his he thought to himself that he wasn't really free. There was no leash, no master, no confined spaces, just her and that was a slavery he was willing to accept if the price meant freedom that only she could give him.


	22. Chapter 22

"Are you ready to see the world again," Sarrebas' monotone voice questioned.

A surge of anticipation rushed through her. Two weeks of waiting to explore the open world again had left her stir crazy. Her spirit would be reborn anew at the sights and strangers' faces that she spoke with. Warm callused hands rested on hers as she fidgeted restlessly. She was scared, euphoric, a complete exuberant mess that trembled on the log she sat on. People whispered and children stilled long enough to see her unveiling. The river's roar flowed through the creaking eaves of the trees. Everything was tantamount to bliss.

She felt every one's eyes on her as the first bandages were removed. It was the start of something new; the end of a horrible beginning. The weight of the world was being lifted off of her. Small speckles of sunlight penetrated through the cloth. It was like seeing stars on a night vacant of its celestial body. Each had more fervor in its twinkle as if to outshine all the rest.

"Please hurry," she breathed with quivering lips.

"Patience," Fenris whispered in her ear.

"Shut your eyes, Adria. Give them time to acclimate to the light," the healer commanded gently.

The final wrappings fell away leaving her skin fully exposed to the air. It was sticky and refreshing after being bundled under layers of bandages. She felt her face and smiled. It took all her willpower to open her eyes and let the first hints of unadulterated sunshine cascade in. She squinted through haze with jagged movements from her head to take on the full view of the encampment. Her eyes blinked and slowly opened fully. Shadowy figures stood around her while fuzzy splotches of color took on the shape of the surrounding vicinity.

"It's blurry," she said with a frown.

"Give it time," the qunari stated.

She stood up and started to walk around. She was like a child, exploring her new environment. Her fears followed in her footsteps. A twig snapping made her jump and spin around. She had been shed of the confining security the blindfold had granted her. Now she was exposed and alone. There were no walls, no guards, and no hustle and bustle being heard in the distance. She was out in the open without the master that had protected her from the outside world. She shook to near convulsions as trepidation stalked her to a dead stop. It was too fast for her to take in.

"Adria," Fenris called as he approached her.

"It's too much," she lamented.

"It's alright," he muttered as he turned her to him and held her.

She closed her eyes again and listened to the gentle drumming of his heartbeat against her ear. It was steady and soothed her. Her muscles relaxed as he rubbed her back. She looked up at him and meekly smiled. She was embarrassed by her display of lack of control.

"I can do this," she said weakly.

"I know you can. Take it slow."

"The bleeding is gone? No more bruises?" she questioned rapidly before he could move her.

"It's as if it never happened."

She smirked and allowed herself to be led back to the group of onlookers. They were so alien. She had become so accustomed to the disembodied voices that had surrounded her. Several large qunari stood around a fire and acknowledged her with a polite nod as she passed. Her head whipped around as she tried to absorb every delicate hue that encompassed her. The world never seemed so vibrant. The smells were hunger inducing bounties that had invaded her. Her fingers nimbly rubbed the small trinkets around her neck nervously as she smiled at the children.

Saarebas bowed courteously as she approached. The adept qunari offered her a seat next to the fire and sat beside her. Fenris placed himself to her left on the ground and casually picked up a small leaf and twirled it between his fingers. The veins that canvassed the browning foliage stuck through its paper thin skin. A couple of elves neared the trio and offered them mugs of nutty smelling ale. She looked in to the tankard at the white foamy head and placed the pewter to her lips. She sipped it demurely. She had never experienced such an alcohol. It was rich and bubbled in her mouth. The fine wines that she was so familiar with in Tevinter – while elegant – had lacked the certain earthy bouquet and genuine artisanship that made this alcohol seem more intoxicating.

She pulled the mug away and glanced out of the corner of her eye at Fenris. He seemed amused for some reason. He chuckled and shook his head before taking a swig of his own drink.

"What?" she sharply questioned.

"Nothing," he chortled.

"No, what is it?"

"You've got some foam on your nose," Saarebas stated.

"O, Maker," she squeaked as she wiped away the small dollop of white froth.

* * *

><p>He couldn't help but watch her as she circled the fire singing of loves long forgotten in Arcanum. Music accompanied her with low strains that hinted the air in chords of regret and never ending sadness. Her eyes met his and he leaned against the log to hide his obvious bashfulness. He knew this song all too well. She had sung it before the magisters before. She had a voice that would have made a now vacant Maker take notice. It was a tale of a knight telling his love of his remorse as he lay dying on the battlefield. He was begging for forgiveness for failing on his promise to return to her. The song coursed through him till the last held note echoed into the moon laden night.<p>

Men and women applauded her performance as she resumed her place beside him. The songs continued on as people started to dance to a lively jig. Imogen asked her to dance and she accepted with a smile. He watched the flit of her skirt as she twirled around. Her hearty laugh carried like a song of jubilation. He witnessed her evolution right before his very eyes. He envied the delight they were having and kicked himself for not offering it to her first.

She ran over and knelt in front of him. She rested her chin on her knee and grinned. She gazed at him wide-eyed and swelled with vivid energy. Her eyes seemed to glow an unnatural green in the darkness. He tried to look away, but she giggled softly and stuck out her tongue.

"Dance with me?" she implored.

"I don't know how," he remarked. "I'd just make a fool of myself."

"No different than I am."

"You're drunk," he snorted.

"Am not," she pouted. She sat back on her heels and glowered. "Then will you walk with me?"

"Where?"

"Just around. The noise is starting to grate me a little," she explained with a sullen and lost tone. Her fingers fiddled with the key before resting on the ground in front of her. "If you don't want to I'll understand. Stay and enjoy yourself."

"You're not worried about the big wide open?"

"I'm terrified. That's why I would like it if you came with me. You're the only one I trust here," she voice wavered at the sudden collapse of her confidence.

He helped her up and took her to their shared tent. He stepped inside and scowled. Alone with her was a daunting thought that carried heavy consequences if it went beyond what it was meant to be. He had been her bodyguard for so long that the next progression seemed like an afterthought in a continuous cycle of locked doors and prohibited covetousness. He would have preferred to be ignorant to her and let the forges that built them be torn asunder. There was still so much baggage that they carried away with them.

He dreaded walking back out there. To her and that tantalizing body that, on colder nights, melded with his to keep warm. He kept her haunting innocence intact despite her ingrained inclination to get closer to him. He couldn't stomach the idea of basing the overpowering allure of her as an excuse to use her to satiate a thirst that he couldn't afford to defeat.

"Is everything alright," she asked.

The flap lifted and her pale face stared up at him. Her eyes glazed as the final ounces of alcohol entered her system. He picked up his sword and joined her outside. He clipped the sheath to his belt and followed her around the tent and out in to the wilds. She held him tightly as she carefully headed towards the sound of the rushing water to the west.

"We shouldn't go too far. We don't know what's lurking out here this late," he warned her.

"Do you want to go back?" she questioned.

He looked behind him to the dimly lit fires yards away. The breeze picked up in a forceful gust. Petrichor carried on the wind. It was moist and fragrant. The aroma of earth and water intertwined in a battle of elements. The trees swayed and the boughs bent to their invisible master. The sound of crackling rippled across the sky growing to a bone rattling crescendo of deafening thunder. Adria's nails dug through his shirt in a panic. He could hear rain falling in the distance and growing closer rapidly.

The heavens opened up and a deluge of large drops fell on them. They were drenched before they knew what to do. Adria looked up in to the sky; her eyes fluttered as the sky's tear drops landed on her face in cold blasts of pelting wind. He let her enjoy it until he couldn't stand the cold any longer. He grabbed her wrist and started to pull her back towards the settlement. Her muscles tensed when he yanked. He was growing annoyed being out in the open in the dead of night in sopping wet attire.

"What's wrong?" he growled.

He could barely see her move in the depths of the darkness. Her footsteps mashed dampened leaves as she circled around him. She poked him in the back and chuckled away from him. He hurried after her trailing voice. He stopped after several feet and looked around. He could hear her breathing close to him. She was a phantasm in the stormy calignosity.

"Do you remember two years ago?" her ethereal voice asked.

"Why?" he snapped.

"Do you?" she repeated. Her voice was in a different location now.

"Adria, you're going to get lost out here."

"Don't change the subject," she yelped. More rapid footsteps grew closer and stopped. "You wouldn't dance with me. So we're doing this your way. It's a dance your more familiar with, I assume. Alone in the dark with no guards to watch, no fear of Danarius catching us and the reprisal of all things not left sacred. The two of us: dirty, wet, cold in the open and nigh a person in sight."

"I'm losing my patience," he grumbled.

"So am I." She was right behind him again. "I just wanted to know if you remembered."

He grabbed at her and caught her by the hair. She squealed as he brought her back to him. She groaned as her chest pressed against his. His hand slid under her bodice to the tender skin underneath. It radiated a heat that couldn't be quenched under any circumstance. Her hands searched him until avidity forced his hand. She unhinged him from his reservations. The way her nails dug into his back and all preposterous divinations came in a frenzied destructive force.

He felt her lips on his neck working her way up to his lips. His eyes rolled the closer she came. Her hips pushed his in a taunting and delicious hint. He explored her thoroughly. Each curve became a landmark of perfection. His hand went lower and wrenched her skirt up. His fingertips caressed her thighs rising higher till he had made it back to her bony hip.

"Can you say it yet?" she queried through ragged breath.

He released her and took a step back. He took her in and frowned. She was so damn enticing and he would have given anything to take her if it wasn't for that nagging voice in his head. That damned ring that hung around her neck. The key that had him enslaved to a psychotic madman adorned her as if it were a trophy to be had. Both linked them to their master.

She gave him his freedom at the sacrifice of her own. It was a reminder of how locked she actually was. She was given the key upon the acceptance of his proposal; he was as much her slave as Danarius'. There was no way to escape it. He had broken her down. Taken what she had always wanted and feared in the same breath. There was too much there. Too much history that had lingered and the fresh wounds that seemed to be recreated with her glances couldn't change the how and why he wanted it.

He didn't want to justify his actions with an excuse of screwing over the magister while tasting the forbidden fruit that he constantly dangled in front of him. He wanted it on her terms when she was ready. When he was ready to devote that sacrifice of faith and put the dagger in her hand. Trust her not to wound him in the only way she knew how.

"I can't, Adria. Not yet."

"When?"

"I don't know. Maybe never."

"Never?" her voice became so quiet that the crack in her voice broke his heart.

He couldn't look at her anymore. He didn't want to see her breaking down in the aftermath of what he deemed the ultimate betrayal. He had to get away from her, put as much distance between them as possible. She grabbed his arm and he froze.

"Why can't you?" she growled through clenched teeth.

He felt his sword being tugged on and the subtle hiss of it being unsheathed. She couldn't be thinking of inflicting harm on him. He wasn't going to chance it; he swung and backhanded her across the face. She landed in a thick patch of ferns and looked up at him dismayed by the strike. She glanced to the ground and began to cry.

"This is why, Adria!" he yelled. He leaned over her and glared at her with a hot flash of fury. "Has it ever occurred to you that I might hurt you? That I am not built to acquiesce to your needs? I was trained to fight and kill. I was made in to this and I can't help but wonder if it is your silly infatuation to something intangible or if it is really me that you are wanting. If it is the former then I pity you. If it is the latter then…"

"Please, not again," she wept.

"Adria," he muttered. "I do, I just don't believe I'm strong enough to admit it."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry," she sobbed. Her body shook against him violently.<p>

The sound of thunder raged on outside the snug little tent. He was drenched in a cold sweat under the wooly blanket he had wrapped around him. Rain pelted the sides and he remembered: it had started to rain before they left for their nighttime stroll. He had convinced her to sleep and rest her eyes. He didn't want her straining them enough to cause further injury. He was relieved that the nightmare that had haunted him since they had bunked together had been another phantasm that left him unsettled.

Her own nightmares were ones of her past. The atrocities that she had been forced to live with from Danarius' hand to forcing himself on her. He wondered of all the things she lost and had nothing to show for it but these night terrors and scars that would stay with her. She thrashed under the covers at her dream assailant before crying again.

"I'm right here," he uttered. "I'm not going anywhere."

He placed his hand on her shoulder to calm her. She jerked away from him in a fit and burst to life in shivers and blood soaked tears. Her thin chemise stuck to her damp skin in wrinkles along her torso. She looked down at him and began shedding tears again. She was edgy and flinched when he touched her arm. Her hands ripped the blanket away and began scouring the small domicile.

He knew what she was looking for. She had left it behind. The security blanket that had kept her sane in her darkest moments had been snatched away. She had left it in the estate and if he could he'd go back to retrieve it, but his hands were tied. The city itself was under heavy guard from qunari and he dared not make a rogue's attempt into hostile territory.

He came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. She grew rigid at his attempts to stop her but didn't fight him. He listened till her ragged breathing calm and whispered apologies that she muttered with regret. She became so isolated with all familiar things stripped from her; she was lost. He helped her back to bed and shared his blanket with her instead of having two separate ones. She just wanted someone close. Someone that wouldn't hurt her the way she had been. Someone to protect her from all the bad in the world and very possibly save her from herself from the monsters that had lived in the shadows of her mind.

* * *

><p>With the sun burning away the hazy clouds that had drenched the fertile soil around them, Adria rose to the cawing of guttural sounding birds. She looked to the vacant spot beside her and sighed. She touched it and felt the faint remnants of body heat still emanating from the cloth. He hadn't been gone long, maybe half an hour or so. Her head rested against her knees in quiet contemplation. Fenris was out on patrol. It had become his duty while being there. His armor and weapon was missing from their resting place and she wouldn't see him till nearly dusk.<p>

He had traded with one of the other warriors so that he would be back before the moon had crested. If he wasn't in the field searching for the next location of the encampment, then he was out hunting with the other warriors. He had become a fairly skilled tracker and caught on quickly to the ways of the Warriors. She, however, had barely started to come out of her shell. Behind the shield of bandages she was safe. Part of her didn't want this to be the reality that she was now forced to live. It wasn't the comforts that she was deprived of. It was the mundane routine that she had lived for years. The magister may have been cold-hearted and at times possessive, but he was still the one that had protected her and kept her within arm's reach. She was comfortable with it. It was the only world she knew. This place was alien, and while majestic in its own right, it wasn't home.

She couldn't help but be overcome by the thought that now that Danarius was gone, she had clung to the one remaining thing that was a constant. She was dependent on him and him alone. How could this interlocking life she had gravitated to be the only way she could breathe? When he was gone, she suffocated and wouldn't inhale until he told her it was alright to. He could be brusque and distant in one instance and completely doted on her the next. The signals were confusing and had her keeping her most guarded secrets away from him. It would have been a release for her to outright tell him everything. The emotional suicide that had her falling to her knees and begging for the compassion that she didn't think she was worthy of.

It was the final wall that seemed impenetrable and stretched on in both directions forever. She was worried, no; petrified that he would be apathetic to her. Even if his actions were one of concern, she had seen it before with Danarius. Everything was a lie. The use of love to make her compliant in every situation made the sense null in the ever-changing world and circumstance that was her life.

She slid her hand up her thigh and hit cold steel. The heavy lock that had now hefted its weight around her waist clanked against the iron garment. It was humiliating to think about it or even speak of. She wouldn't allow herself to tell Fenris of the belt that harnessed her in its cold and unfeeling embrace. The way he looked at her when she allowed him to take off the bandages to see her. The bruises that were a badge of negligent denial were from the refusal to take it. It was hers to wear until her wedding night at the consummation of their joining. It was Danarius' paranoid fear of imperfect contrition. He had broken her down and rebuilt her in to the submissive paramour that she was now and with an engagement that would have made her eternally his, he was going to yet again destroy who she was to make her his bride.

While to those outside, the master seemed like a callous man, he was strangely devout in the ways of the Chantry. Tevinter's stance on slavery was a loophole he used to get her in to his bed at an age where most girls her age were still frolicking in meadows and helping their families with tasks and chores. After their intercourses he would leave and cleanse himself in the small altar at the far end of the estate. He was constantly seeking absolution for using her to satisfy his twisted desires. Whether his prayers would be heard, it didn't matter to her, he still continued to splay her open and disregard all the repentance that he had pleaded for the night before.

She grew nauseated with the thought of violation under duress. She didn't want to be a second-time virgin that would have it ripped away again. She didn't care what the guard-captain said about it. The whole: 'You're still a virgin. Someone can't take that from you; you have to give it,' didn't ring true. Sure, someone could take it from you, just like they can take away your freedom or family. She rubbed the key between her fingers and stood just long enough to don her black dress and pulled her hair back with the small tine one of the children had left for her.

The silvery bauble hung from the tip and swayed when she moved her head. The ends of her hair flared in a fan that still managed to grace her gentle shoulders. The balmy air cooled her as she stepped from the small canvas structure. Petrichor seeped air displaced the final lingering notions of tiredness. Most of the men were out about their daily routines leaving the women and children to meander around the camp. She heard coughing cutting through the air as Saarebas spoke with one of the patrol captains. When he noticed she was standing there, alone and under her own power he waved the docile woman to him.

They exchanged greetings and he introduced her to some of the women that were watching after the children. There were four of them. One was heavy with her own and glowed like the dawn itself. She was to aid him with healing practices when necessary, but her daily task was to educate the children. An education was important to him, and given that she was the most learned of all of them, she would teach them the ways of civility and grace. Especially the girls. They had a mind that would be nurtured as well, just as the boys would be taught by the men to fight and hunt.

She didn't know how to deal with children. The last one she had come in to contact with had ended up dead and he was a holy terror to begin with. Saarebas left her as the small pocket of beaming faces approached her. One little girl with bright red pigtails pulled on the sleeve of her gown to get her attention. She knelt to meet her eye to eye and smiled. Her dirty face was smeared in a deep purple and she smelled of raspberries.

"What do we call you?" she asked as she twirled her hair around her finger. Her Fereldan accent was thick. She couldn't have been a slave long. It was strange to hear after so long. Speaking Arcanum and picking up the harshness of the language itself had caused her to lose her own.

"Adria," the nervous woman replied.

The woman with the burgeoning belly approached. She was elven and carried the same flowing red hair as the lass in front of her. The resemblance was uncanny. She was the mother to the spritely little girl who grinned at her auspiciously.

"Call her 'my lady', Lydia," the girl's mother said.

"She doesn't need to. I have no title and most just call me Adria," she explained with a half-hearted sigh.

"Where are you from originally? You don't look Tevinter, even though you carry the accent and markings," the fiery redhead questioned.

"Fereldan. Lothering to be precise," Adria stated. "Though that seems like such a long time ago. Almost seventeen years now since I've been there."

The woman was giving her a confused look. It was like her words had struck something in her. It was unsettling for her to not know if she had said something that had offended the pregnant woman or if it was the pangs of the life within her taking hold. Adria excused herself quickly to be rid of the horrified look of the other woman. She ran just past her tent and hid behind a large tree. She leaned against it and scowled at herself. She had nothing to be wary about. Everything was fine. Fenris would get back and everything would be okay again.

She hated being reminded of her past. The family that was stolen from her in the dead of night. The youth that had been snatched away by a person she didn't even know. It was all too surreal for her.

"Are you going to stay hidden like this all day?" Saarebas asked as he rounded the tree.

"I don't know," she muttered. "Everything is moving so fast that I can't keep up."

"You will learn, child. Do not fret about the difficulty you are no doubt bound to face. Everything will work out alright in time. You have the company of a friend and those around you, if you will permit them, will be there to assist you in this transition."

"That's asking a lot from strangers," she grumbled.

"Sometimes, that's what you have to do. We aren't just warriors, hunters and teachers. We are a family." He nudged her shoulder with his staff and pointed her to the patrol that was returning. It wasn't Fenris'; they were given a special assignment. The red head ran up to one of the men and embraced him tightly. He rubbed her stomach lovingly and followed her back to the settlement. "They have been with us for several years now. Kallen came to us under unusual circumstances. He was being held captive by Tal-Vashoth. Kier was with another group of warriors and had become lost. It was Kallen that saved her from being devoured by one of the large tusked beasts that roam these forests."

"And that means what to me," Adria muttered as she picked up a stone and tossed it into a thick patch of brush.

"That doesn't mean you have to bear your burden alone. You are not alone. Relying on someone to support you when the world seems at its most bleak is what gives you strength. You've seen it yourself. You live it. What you see as weakness is already being tended to by another. It's up to you now to give faith a chance." He stood up and looked at her. "You should return to the children. They are very intrigued by you, it seems."

* * *

><p>The sun had hit its apex as they started their trek back from the new clearing they would be moving to. He was exhausted from the night before and the early start that had to be made to reach the settlement before nightfall. No one wanted to be out in the jungles after dark. All he could think of the entire trip was the condition of Adria. It was the longest they had been apart since they had been there. This sojourn into the wilderness had taken longer than was expected, but according to the leader of the five man group, it would be the perfect place to set camp. It was defendable with plenty of drinkable water and hunting grounds.<p>

It was further from the river than they currently were staying and given that the banks tended to break when a heavy rain would fall upstream; the safety of the children and women was paramount. For the most part, they walked in silence; always alert to the man-eating flora or hidden dens that some of the creatures of the wood liked to burrow in.

The sound of laughing grew closer and the plumes of ashen smoke floating up in to the air was the landmark they had been seeking. The delectable aroma of meat cooking over an open fire made their pace quicken. Hungry bellies made them groan and as they mood lightened at the sight of loved ones and companions, Fenris walked past the small brood of children and anticipated the sight of Adria hiding in the tent. He unclipped his sheath and stepped inside. It was empty. There was no sign of her and the bed that had once held her when he left was delicately made. A pile of throws had been neatly folded. They had been placed by the door as if waiting to be taken away. He hid his weapon under the small pile of leaves that cushioned them from the cold hard ground. She would return. She couldn't have just run away for the sake of anxiety. He ripped back the flap and with darting eyes searched for her.

"You're looking for Adria," Imogen asked with a stifled grin.

"Where is she?" he growled.

The elf pointed in the direction of the small squealing bodies and to the chuckling woman who chased them around. His heart nearly stopped when she finally looked at him. She smiled warmly and in the fading sunlight she glimmered as brightly as the jeweled orbs that dotted the night's sky. She tucked her hair behind her ear and the thick sweep of bangs covered her eye. She was captivating and then he thought to the stack of blankets by the door. They were his. Did she not need him anymore and was now kicking him out or was she taking a step in to the unknown? Was he willing to follow her if that was the case?

"She is good with the children," Saarebas stated as he lumbered over to him.

"How did you get her to come out?" he asked.

"She came out by herself. She stumbled a little earlier in the day, but I spoke with her. This was a good day for her. Tomorrow might be different, however. You're just going to have to be there if it is. Enjoy her moment of levity for now."

* * *

><p>Adria held up a tiny pouch in front of him. She sat cross legged on their bed. The slight ting of metal had confused him as she squirmed to adjust herself. A look of wonder in her eye had amused him as she unlaced the pouch and stuck her fingers in it. She pulled a small dimpled orb from it and stuck it in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she slowly chewed the morsel and swallowed it with a satisfied moan.<p>

"We need to talk for a minute," he said as he changed out of his armor.

"What about," she questioned, digging through the bag again.

"Do you want me to stay somewhere else?"

The sound of rustling stopped and she looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"That's a foolish thing to ask, isn't it?"

"It isn't when it comes to you. Why did you remove my blankets from the bed?"

She placed the pouch beside her and shook her head. He could feel the room get colder as the silence between them grew.

"Because you don't need them. We could share, you know. It's more efficient that way."

"Efficient or familiar?"

"Both," she uttered.

"I didn't stay with you to replace Danarius. I stayed because I thought you needed someone," he snapped.

"Really! You had to bring him up! This has nothing to do with him at all. This is between you and me; not him or D'lara or anyone else. I want you stay. I need you to stay. If you think that it is foolish to want something then I can't help with that. You are familiar and all I have left that keeps me grounded."

He examined her face and the toiling hands that kneaded the blankets she sat on. She was on the verge of tears when she shook her head again and muttered to herself. He did feel foolish for bringing it up. He gladdened at her admission and sat beside her. He leaned back on his elbows and watched as she consumed another deep red fruit. She glanced at him and smirked.

He went to grab the small sack when she smacked his hand away with a snort. He pulled away and watched as she stuck another one in her mouth. It sat there as she rolled it around her tongue and stopped. She was playing with her food. It was something he had never seen her do. She was a kid with a piece of candy that wanted it to last forever. She devoured it quickly and plucked another one out of the batch.

"You want one?" She began to place it to her lips and halted just short of popping it in to her mouth. "Come and get it."

He watched it slide between her lips and disappear. His heart palpitated in his chest and his head spun.

"You want me to get it from you?"

She nodded rapidly and waited. Her head bobbed from side to side. Black hair swished at her back. She was teasing him; begging for him to play the game with her. She slid the bag away from him to keep him from cheating and winked contentedly at the predicament she was putting him in. He knew what she wanted him to do and by all that was holy he wanted to do it as well. He was letting her take the lead in their little scenario, for the moment, after that it was up to her what would transpire afterwards.

He sat up and broke the first barrier between them. The gentleness of her lips against his, her scent was natural and pure. He had to try more, taste what the hidden fruit had to offer him. Explore its richness and texture for signs of possibilities. She was molding to him, sliding closer till she was nearly one against him. His fingers ran through her hair as his tongue experimented with movements that bent her to his will. The small treasure he had dug for moved from her to him in a fluid motion.

The tangy sweetness of the fruit burst in his mouth in a mix of her and natural juices. It was ambrosial. The sweetest nectar he had ever experienced. He was growing frantic and as he pulled away she smiled with a bright blush to her cheeks. He couldn't continue. Not now, there was too much that could be damaged if things were taken too far before they were ready. They had overcome one obstacle together. Taking the time to be what she needed was more important. She didn't need a lover, she needed something greater.

She could sense his uneasiness and tenderly kissed him on the cheek. When he looked at her he could see the same thing: hesitance to proceed. He was okay with that as was she. They both wanted it to be the right moment.

"You're birthday is coming up again. What do you want?" he quickly asked to change the subject and break the tension.

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it," she remarked with a shrug.

"I'll figure out something. You will not go uncelebrated this year," he laid back on his pillow and yawned. She pulled the drawstring of the small pouch shut and put it beside her clothes. She curled up next to him and closed her eyes. "We have to be up early to break down the settlement. Get some rest."

He kissed her on the forehead and pulled her closer to him. He was nearly asleep when her hand came across his chest, waking him slightly.

"I don't need anything as long as you're here," she muttered sleepily.

He smiled faintly and listened to her breathe. He brushed her hair over her shoulder and closed his eyes again. He might not have had the money to buy her anything, but he'd think of something that would make her happy. She was owed that; as much as he was privileged to have her slumbering beside him. A gentle breeze fluttered the flap of the tent and stilled. With all the time in the world at their fingertips they would get their wishes granted and he wasn't worried about the when. It was the 'who' and 'why' that was important and to him it was an answer that he knew would be the final step in breaking away from the past.


	23. Chapter 23

He could hardly imagine the image he saw when he looked at her. Adria stood outside Kallen's tent with the new bundle in her arms. He could see she was exhausted from the strenuous work she had done in helping bring this life in to the world. Yet, as she cooed and rocked the small babe from side to side the weariness seemed to be an afterthought; a slight punctuation of the many hours she had been nestled away inside the small structure. She looked maternal as she smiled at the little bundle of wiggling flesh. The new father was speaking with the midwife that had stolen his heart and changed his perspective on all things regarding her. Saarebas was congratulating the new father as the wee one was handed to the waiting arms of the proud papa. He didn't want to ruin the moment by imposing his presence. He was self-conscious about the whole event. He didn't think Adria could pull it off and for several hours the painstaking screams that came out of there were only broken up by Adria's soft voice trying to soothe her.

He knew that she had been awoken in the dead of night to deliver the newborn, but he couldn't begin to fathom the length of time it would take for the whole process to be over. He had resumed his normal functions at the start of the day only to find that Adria was still busy attending to Keir. He kept thinking about her the entire day. The thought of a gift for her birthday distracted him from his patrol. They had only been in the new location for a couple of weeks, leaving Adria a little worried but not so worn as before. She was adjusting. He could see it in the way she marched around with the children and sang songs with them.

"She seems to be settling in nicely," Imogen stated.

"It would appear so," Fenris muttered without a look in the elf's direction. He was powerless to look away from her as she strolled around, kicking stones out of her path. "I'm glad she is."

"All of us are," the hunter remarked. Things grew silent between them for a short while making the whole conversation unsettling. Fenris tucked his head inside his tent and dislodged his weapon from his side. "What are your intentions with her?"

It was an odd question. One he had heard a few times in the passing months. The more he thought about it the more answer became obvious. He wanted it to be perfect – as much as it could be – for her. If she would allow it. She had withdrawn a little in the last week. Maybe she was scared of letting go. It was a big step for her and her only experience had been with Danarius so maybe she feared he wouldn't want to do it at all.

* * *

><p><em>Two weeks later…<em>

She was overcome with pain. Her body oozed sanguine from fixed points on her body. Her shoulders screamed in agony as she fell to her knees in anguish. Something had happened on the patrol. These things didn't happen for nothing and with her being the only healer in the camp at the moment she had to try and remain conscious from the shock that was trying to dominate her. Keir caught her before she fell over. Her hands trembled and as the deafening fog seemed to cover her senses she thought of Fenris and what had happened. She could feel him slipping away. Her heartbeat was slowing and respirations were growing more of a struggle to permit. Why had Saarebas and some of the warriors left to trade with the other Fog Warriors at such an inconvenient time? They had been gone for three days now, leaving her to keep control of medical responsibilities.

She heard the patrol yelling as they drew closer. Loud angry cries called to her. She gave a guttural growl and forced herself to move. Her head was swimming through the greying cloud that gave her unshakable tunnel vision. Kallen and Imogen came staggering in to her faded line of sight dragging Fenris over their shoulders. Keir led her to them as her weakened frame try to maintain calm.

"We were attacked," Imogen stated, handing off Fenris to one of the qunari.

"Take him to my tent," she muttered. "We'll discuss what happened afterwards."

She followed them in and ordered Kallen to give her two bowls: one for herself and one to clean away the blood and debris from the elf's wounds. She pulled her sleeves up and began to take off the spiky armor from the unconscious elf. She was so focused on her task that she had paid no notice to the pain or the tears that were falling.

Several deep punctures were spread across his body. Kallen returned and stammered at the sight of the blood dripping from her face. She waved him off and asked for hot water and a rag. He disappeared again and reemerged with her requested items. She wiped her eyes and bit her lip. She picked up his wrist and felt the thready pulse drum against her fingers. His lips were turning a shade of blue.

"Don't you dare die on me damn it," she yelped. "You have to yell at me about using magic on you, or hurting myself or something. There are things I haven't gotten to say yet. Would you deny me that?"

She shook him forcefully and placed her hands to his chest. She felt the crackling of electricity in her skull as she began to heal him. Her head throbbed the harder she tried to stabilize him. She started to wheeze and spit in the empty bowl fresh blood. Her hand shot up to Kallen and barked to get her another rag. He came back with the tattered rag in hand.

"Wrap it around my eyes," she ordered.

"You won't be able to see if I do that."

"I can't see now anyways. I need your help."

She pulled him down to her and covered her mouth when a violent cough erupted from her. He wrapped her up and as she bled through the bandage. She spit again and heard the slosh of fluid in the bowl. It didn't hurt her all over, but the magic was draining her of her life. A slow stream of hot liquid hit her lip and her ears rang with an equally damp liquid sliding down the sides of her face.

"You need to stop. You're killing yourself," Kallen stated.

"If I do stop, he'll die. I can't have him do that. Not when he's the only thing I have left," she spat. "How are his injuries?" she asked without skipping a beat.

"It's working."

"Alright. Leave me. If I need anything else I'll call for you," she said as she picked up the limp arm and felt for his wrist. His pulse was stronger than it was before but not as much as she wanted it.

She continued working. The only sounds were her wheezing, the whispered voices from outside and the chirps of insects orchestrating their tunes. Her hands were sticky with blood and she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her energy waned the further in to the night she worked. Keir brought her a cup of tea and held it up for her to drink. She sipped it and continued reconstructing her counterpart.

* * *

><p><em>He was free; unbound from his servitude. The heavy collar tossed aside. He looked at Adria, her head hung, hands shackled in front of her. She had paid for it with total willingness at domination. He would be leaving alone, without her. Danarius' words were fraught with hatred. <em>

"_Don't come back," he growled._

_He was dragged from the premises with nothing to him. He kept looking over his shoulder at her. Tears fell from her eyes and hit the floor. He wanted to fight, to free her from a debt that she had no right to pay on his behalf. If he couldn't have her there was no reason to leave. It was a prison of a different sort. A slavery that had him still bound and shackled to her. _

_The doors slammed behind him as people started to come up the street to the estate. He looked around and hid on the side of the house. A lone socialite stood near him. He was dressed in masquerade clothes and a hooded cloak. He grabbed the man by the collar and in a swift move he snapped his throat. It was all too perfect for him to contemplate. He dragged the corpse in to the bushes and stole his clothes. He would get in by hook or crook to see her. The costume fit loosely and swished as he tied the cape around his neck. The porcelain mask shielded him from the prying eyes of guests. He pulled the hood up and started for the front door. A guard stopped him and asked him for the invitation._

_He felt through the pockets and found the folded paper with Danarius' seal on it. He was allowed in without another word. He heard the drums and conversations of people growing closer. The trail of tall candelabras along a deep red carpet led him to the large foyer that had been decorated in flowing shades of black and white. Then he saw him: Danarius in his chair, imbibing his expensive wine while Hadriana spoke with him. He moved amongst the crowds a tortured free man looking for Adria. The ensemble on the second tier hit their fermata and the magister rose and gave a rousing speech welcoming them to the reception. The guests applauded humbly as he introduced them to his bride. _

_He listened to the heavy drums thud above signaling her arrival. The doors opened and he caught the first glimpse of her. The sheer dress that flowed freely around her body and exposed her to the prying eyes of the society's elite. The curve of her breasts and the darkened metal belt that still held fast around her hinted the opacity of the garment. She was so pale with the contrast of black that adorned her face with specks of diamond dust that shimmered. She assumed her position, body at the ready, letting the beat consume her. The shackle at her ankle hit the floor and scrapped along as her body moved. Arms that swayed above her head in sweeping motions lifted the sheer gown in waves of white. _

_She was hypnotic and seductive a feast of the eyes to all who watched. Her back arched backwards as her eyes snaked up over her. She was putting her heart out for him to see it. She glanced in his direction and he took a step back. She could see right through the ornament he wore and right in to his soul. She kept moving never letting the world out there know that she knew he was there. _

"_What are you doing here?" he heard D'lara ask from behind him. He turned from Adria to the elf silently. "I've missed you." _

_She leaned in to kiss him, but he moved away from her. He couldn't watch the death of his love any longer. If he had to do everything for her he would. They were inseparable. He was reborn in her: a child to her wonder and sage to everything that she needed. Her immutable desires were nothing to be trifled with._

_The music grew louder and as he walked on to her stage an audible gasp escaped the audience. All eyes were on him as she turned to face the one who had interrupted her performance. She was wounded, not by him, but the belittling she was living with. The humiliation of facing her fate and the longing that she thought would go untouched. He pulled the hood down and ripped the mask from his face, letting it splinter in to tiny shards on the ground. She looked around fearful that Danarius would charge in and smite her love in front of her._

_His affection for her was incalculable. He took one step and felt the impossible happen. He was traversing the floor towards her with an unmatched confidence. He would protect her soul from the very things thought would dare to take it from her. He was on his knees in front of her. He didn't care if any one saw him touch her, look in to her eyes and tell her the first thing that came to mind._

"_You're everything I've wanted and asked for." She stared at him as her dark run tears spilled down her pale cheeks. He rose up and held her close. Her head rested on his shoulder long enough to calm. He ran his fingers through her long hair and kissed her. "For the first time and forever I'm telling you how much I need and bleed for your every move and waking sound. You're my forever now."_

* * *

><p>He woke to a splitting headache. He grumbled as he sat up, rubbing the final edges of sleep from his eyes. He looked around the tent for his clothes and saw the torn cloth covered in blood beside the bed. He couldn't recount how many days he had been out and his memory was fuzzy as to what had happened. He picked the telltale markings of Adria's discomfort and examined the ratty frayed rag, running his fingers across it. There was another one under that with the same blood pattern on it. It was stiff and spotty. It was fuller than the first and clung at the edges. He picked up another and saw it crumpled in to a ball. It was heavy and brown, only fair strands poked around the tears.<p>

"She's alright," Saarebas stated behind him.

"Where is she?"

"I sent her to get some air. She shouldn't be too far out. After two weeks of complete isolation she needed to be alone."

"Oh no," he groaned. "I missed it."

"She knows. It nearly killed her to heal you. Her own wounds healed a couple of days ago. But still she wouldn't leave your side. Blind or not, she couldn't leave you here alone. Get dressed and meet me outside. I'll point you to where she went."

Fenris did as he was told and hurried out to find her. The lumbering qunari was waiting patiently outside for him. They walked to the edge of the camp and stopped. The healer lifted a fat finger to the west.

"How far?" the elf questioned, still in pain from his injuries.

"Not very," he said. He dug in to his side pouch and placed a cold metal object in his hand. Fenris looked at the thin gold chain that held a small emerald chip. He looked at the qunari for a moment and back to the small trinket with a smile. "Keir and Kallen traded for it for you as payment for her delivering their child. You don't have to tell her it's from them."

"Thank you," he muttered coyly. He started in the direction of Adria and stopped. "What do I tell her then?"

"Happy birthday comes to mind," the man snorted. "Just remember, Fenris, the mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death. She has allowed herself the one answer while pulling you from the discovery of the other."

"I know. It's not the first time she's done it."

"Then maybe you should also remind her why she's doing it."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"Neither does she, but you won't know if you don't try."

He was right. Right about her and him. It wasn't an infatuation that had dwindled, but a full blown thirst for her. It was unquenchable and grew with each passing day. He could only wonder what she would have been like if it wasn't for Danarius interrupting her life. Married, children, a home of her own, freedom.

Children, the thought of her being surrounded by little bodies calling her momma as she worked was a sight that he would have prayed to see. Maybe if things progressed the way he hoped he would get the chance to. It would be years off and many things could transpire between then and the jaunt in the jungle he was taking to find her. He didn't want the dark thoughts to cloud the picturesque vision he saw. They both were given a second chance to fulfill the dreams that were put on hold. She would be his as much as he was hers. A divine union of body and spirit shared for an eternity. He could do that if she asked it of him. He would do it if he could step out of his comfort zone and let the rest of the world deal with its own petty hatreds.

* * *

><p>The skies were vibrant and orange when he finally came across her. She was sitting at the banks of a small stream that babbled with clear water. Her body only clad in the thin chemise she wore was drenched in water. She pulled a pitcher from the crystal waters and poured it over her head. It ran over her body in a stream of droplets and pools of liquid glass. He could only watch from afar as she bathed and rested her chin on her knee. It was something that he didn't want to interrupt and as he continued to contemplate how he was going to get her attention he held up the small necklace and watched the dimming sunlight refract off of it.<p>

"Who's there?" she called. She pulled her clothes up to her exposed chest and stood up.

"I am," he finally said as he came out from behind a tree.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him. She ran up to him and threw her arms around him. He hid the pain from her, not wanting to deter her from touching him. He embraced her letting his own clothes grow damp.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you awoke," she stated sadly.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"You didn't have to come and find me. I would have been coming back shortly."

"I did." He held up his enclosed hand and waited. Her eyes looked down at the fist and one by one she pulled it open. Her eyes sparkled on the dainty item. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

"You're alive. That's enough for me," she chimed.

He turned her around and clasped the tiny pendant around her neck. When her hand came up to it her fingers rubbed it lovingly with a beautiful smile. She was happy and grateful for the small gift and thanked him repeatedly. She pressed her lips to his and for a few moments everything faded away. He didn't want it to end, but when she pulled away and took his hand, he knew that this wasn't the conclusion to their awakening.

"We should go back," he said with a gentle glance at her.

"Stay with me a little longer," she pleaded. "There's this spot halfway back in the direction you came from where you can see the sunset. Do that for me and my birthday wish will be fulfilled."

He watched her dress in the layers he hadn't really considered. The vested corset top with full skirt over her chemise cinched her in letting the fullness of her bosom be exposed. It took a little while to see how she manipulated her belt around her waist with the small pouches around it. She stepped in to her heavy leather boots and began to walk towards the little clearing he had seen as he passed.

* * *

><p>They sat on a boulder and scanned the horizon. The final ribbons of golden yellow faded in to the somber violaceous twilight. She sat cross legged, head resting on his shoulder as they watched the day be divided by night. The death of an hour and the birth of another with no violation of conscious thought. A soft breeze wafted the exotic smells of flowers and trees that bent around them.<p>

She felt the small chain of her necklace and untied the twine that had held her past close to her. She pulled it off and looked at the small ring and dark key. Both were agents of a defeated past. One she was ready to let go of now that a confession of amnesty was unneeded. She didn't want to own him or appear to do so. She didn't want him to feel that he belonged to her and whatever choice he made after giving him the symbolic gesture of freedom from his past; she hoped that he would stay not on account of her but because he wanted to do it freely.

"Here, I want you to have it." She held out the key for him to take. He eyed the large silverite key and frowned. "You don't need it anymore and I was only hanging on to it for other reasons. I'm ready to let it go, so to speak."

"Adria, I…," he stammered at a loss for words.

"Don't like it?" she glumly asked.

"It's not that. I don't want you to give up something like that till you are ready to."

"If I wasn't I wouldn't be offering you the final piece to your freedom."

He took the key from her and held it in the dimming light. She knew what it meant to him to be finally rid of the reminder of his time in slavery. He slipped the skeleton key in to his pouch and smiled graciously.

"Maybe I'm not as ready as you are to let it go."

She pulled a wine skin from her small pack and lifted it up in the air in a celebratory gesture.

"Then a toast: to a death of the old and a dawning of a new future." She took a sip of wine and passed it to him with a smile. He took his own drink from it and as he slurped down the alcohol muttered, " together."

He grew warm and swelled with energy. Saarebas had been completely right about everything. They wouldn't know unless they tried. Whether it was nearly climbing in to the Void to save the other or inflicting wounds on themselves to keep the other safe, they had each done it for the other. There were incalculable times where tears were shed in quiet solitude over the other and expressed wants that would bring them closer to the edge of reality than they ever thought to traverse.


	24. Chapter 24

"Five days?" Adria moaned softly as she placed her needle and thread down on the bed. "Is it really going to be that long?"

Fenris sat on the stool by the door and nodded sadly. He leaned towards her and watched her large eyes grow dull. He didn't want to go, but Saarebas had requested – more or less – that he lead a small group of hunters west towards Alam. It would be the longest trip he had to take where he wouldn't be near Adria. He was beside himself as she shuddered and resumed stitching the hem of her skirt.

"I will try to get back as soon as I can. I promise," he stated as he slid off the chair and sat directly in front of her. He saw the deep frown in her face and brushed away her locks. "Look at me, Adria." She peered through the thick veil of bangs. Her eyes fell away from his and the starry-eyed expression of turbulent green glimmered through held back tears. "It _will _be okay. I will make this up to you."

"Do you know when you are leaving?" she queried.

He looked behind him, to the open flap; feet were scattering in different directions in preparation for the trip. He didn't want to have to tell her that he would be gone before the day was done. She would be alone for the first time in her life; with no one there to catch her. How he pitied her for the morning when she woke up he wouldn't be there.

"Soon," he muttered. "We both knew that this was bound to happen at some point. I would have held it off as long as I could, but alas, I don't have that power. I know you can do this. I _believe _that in my gut."

"Then you should get ready to go," she grumbled heatedly. Her eyes shot his, a torrent of emotion glossed over in a flash: the wounds, the abandonment, the complete worry that she hid between a fit of anger and defense mechanisms.

"Please don't act this way," he begged.

"Act what way? Confused, concerned, and saddened? Take your pick," she growled, throwing the hem down over her knees. She shot up and grabbed his pack from off the ground. He followed her, trying to temper her exposed rage. "Take it and go!" she cried out as she slammed it in to his chest.

He looked down at the rucksack and her hands still clinging to the straps. She was struggling with herself to hold down the anger and fear. He could see it in the small lachrymal secretions that welled in her eyes and the tremble in her lips. This was hard on him as well. He had been so wrapped up in her and protecting her that his own worries about the expedition were pushed aside. He had to disassociate from the scene. It was the only way he would be able to withstand the urge to stay.

"Alright, Adria," he sighed. "I'll be back to say my farewell before we head out."

He slung the pack over his shoulder and stepped out. He glanced back at her. She was lost and alone watching him leave.

"Don't bother," she spat.

His head slumped as he pushed past some of the warriors to where the group was finishing gathering equipment. He sat his pack down and rubbed his hands together to warm them. The nip in the air heralded the change of seasons. He would have given anything to stay on the frosty nights to keep her warm. He knew that the misery that would follow in the wake of his departure would only make the evenings shatter in to ice for her. No heat would be able to warm her frozen body in the twilight.

He would miss her sleeping beside him. The warmth of her body against his would be painfully abscent and the sweet and passionate smells that would envelope him would be lost. Her fragile, pale skin that felt of soft silk and buttermilk would leave a void to his senses. The thought was disheartening.

"She'll be alright," the qunari stated with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not so sure," Fenris muttered. "I'm not even sure if I can do this myself."

"Trust us to take care of her. This isn't a punishment for either of you," the old man said with a frown. He looked to the horizon and down at the elf with an uneasy look on his weathered face. Even behind the golden façade, he could see that something troubled him. "You should start now before the sun sets. We'll see you in a few days."

He hefted his pack over his shoulder and gave the weakest order to move out. The words ran dry when he tried to speak them louder with more authority, but the more he tried to force it the larger the lump in his throat swelled. He felt parched as he swallowed down the sadness and began to walk. It felt like a death march out in to the middle of nowhere and he was leaving behind the one thing that had been his saving grace from the dark thoughts that still held him. He felt in to his pouch and searched for the small key that she had given him as a favor to him. It was empty of the treasure. He spun around and started back. He didn't want to be anymore stripped of his identity than he already was.

"Wait!" Adria's voice yelled.

She was running full speed toward him. Her hair flowed behind her in an ebony train that trailed behind her in waves that reflected the faint highlights of her raven mane. She caught him, throwing her arms around his neck and laying in her farewell in a smothering embrace. His hand fell in to place between her shoulder blades as she kissed him. His heart broke at her restrained sobs. He held her; his hand resting in the small of her back.

When the interaction ended, she opened his hand and placed the small ring from around her neck in his hand. It was coupled with the key - which was now adorned with a fine lock of hair - she closed his hand around them she smiled. He returned the gesture and held the ring up to sparkle in the dying light. He slipped the key in to his pouch and grabbed her hand. His armored thumb rubbed the top of her hand. He repressed any doubts he had now. He didn't know what was going to happen while he was away. The token that would have bound her to another till death was the one ingredient necessary to bring life to him: a culmination of all the things that had been shared and would be for as long as she would allow it. He slipped the band on her finger and hugged her tightly.

"I'll miss you," he uttered in her ear.

She looked at him the whole world seemed to still as she pressed her lips to his and stole his breath. Her hand came to his face and held there for split second. The silvery tinged ringlet warmed in her hand and felt just as cool against his skin. He felt his body harden as she sifted through the last remaining moments together. He wiped away the falling tears and shuddered quietly.

"I love you," she softly whispered. "Come back safe."

She took a step back and let her fingers slip from his. She clasped her hands in front of her. She seemed small as she watched him set out again. He was constantly looking over his shoulder to see if she yet remained. When he couldn't see her anymore that's when it hit him. She had admitted to him the most valuable secret she had left to give to him. She was forfeiting control of her heart to him. He would be the guardian of her pure soul and preserve it for them both to experience.

* * *

><p><em>One…<em>

She counted his footfalls as he drew further away. She struggled not to run after him and bring him back. The sheer white shock of hair stood fast even when his body grew distant. Through the blur of tears she felt his presence still with her.

_Twenty…_

He glanced over his shoulder at her and the ties that bind seemed to never grow taut. She twisted the jeweled ring around her finger nervously and prayed silently to the Maker for his safe return. If something were to happen to him and he fell she hoped that she would as well.

_Fifty…_

He vanished before her eyes. She was alone. The final snapshots of their exchange came flooding back as a keepsake that remained as fresh as if he was standing right in front of her. She stood wishing against wishes that were too sincere to fathom until the final immutable beams of light dwindled to nothingness.

She heard her name being called from behind her. It was a sign that she needed to return from the depths of solitude and back to the strangeness of crowded loneliness. She made her way back to camp, to the waiting arms of Keir and Kallen. They had become like the brother and sister she missed.

Bethany with her dark brown hair and honey colored eyes that always seemed to show the completely attached sentiment she had for her older sister. It wasn't fair how their family had parted ways. A child shouldn't have had to undergo that. The weight of the world was lighter than the harrowing burden of guilt that weighed heavily on her. She had failed them all, even herself; those first days. Carver should have never had to witness her shortcomings. If only she had been stronger, older, faster, she could have done something to stop it. They were all dead because of her. She felt like a plague that had wrenched apart the already fragmented pieces of her past.

They sat her in front of the fire pit and wrapped a small shoal over her shoulders. Steam expelled from her mouth in the black, chilled air. She was in no mood for companionship at the moment. She didn't want them to see her – already dangling on the edge of a razor – slip and break down. The tears were a private emotion that even her darkest moments she fought to hide from Fenris; even if she lost at every turn.

Overcome with frustrating and powerful emotions, she excused herself from the group that conversed around her. She returned to her tent and lit the small candle with a flint. The sparks would fly but never make contact with their target. She grew heated and tossed the glossy rocks to the opposite side of the tent in a fit of rage. She had held in all her overwhelming feelings long enough for them to erupt in a display of utter sadness.

Keir stepped in, holding the sleeping child in her arms. In the darkness she felt the weight of the feather light woman set beside her. The newborn whimpered as she was passed to Adria to hold. Small, fat hands gripped her thumb. She smiled at the wiggling and held her up to her shoulder. Light streamed in from outside and broke the bleak interior in glowing illumination. The elf placed a lit candle on the stool and looked at the young woman rubbing her daughter's back.

She plopped down beside her and took the babbling lass from her. She rocked her from side to side as they watched the large eyes slowly close.

"Have you thought about it?" Keir asked.

"Children?"

The redhead nodded and grinned. She placed the child between them when she had drifted in to a deep sleep.

"Yes, I have," Adria answered with a sullen look on her face. "I don't think it was meant to be however."

"Why is that? You seem able enough."

Adria pulled the blanket away from the child's face gently and caressed the sleeping babe's cheek with her finger. Her memories flooded back to Danarius murdering D'lara's son and the hopelessness she felt when the contemplation of the father being a man who would be unscrupulous in his manipulation over her.

She tried to explain what had happened that fateful night almost a year ago. The party, the magisters, the argument with her former master that still led to the demise of a toddler; everything that was leading up to the penultimate event. She spoke of D'lara and how she had persuaded Fenris in to believing that the rug rat – who screamed to the rafters – was his. The beating that she had received from Danarius for being in close proximity with Fenris. The more she spoke in rambling sentences to her, the wider her eyes became.

"How did you know it wasn't his?" she questioned, halting halfway through her tale.

"Because I'm the one that delivered him."

* * *

><p><em>Two years earlier…<em>

_She awoke to a subtle jostling of her arm. After a night of satiating Danarius' thirst for the extreme she prayed that he wasn't asking for more. Groggy and nearly bare she sat up and shook off the drowsiness that had her head in a haze. Her body ached and the hints of blood in her mouth made her gag. The magister turned over and snored loudly before relaxing in his new position._

"_Mistress," an elven man whispered._

_She opened her eyes completely and snatched the blanket up over her exposed chest when she realized it wasn't her master beckoning her for another round. _

"_What is it?" she harshly whispered. _

_She grabbed her robe and tied it around her. Her modesty intact she removed herself from the coverlet and stood. She shooed the man aside and poured a cup of water for herself. She sloshed it around her mouth and spat pink and brown speckled water in to the basin. She eyed the man in the mirror in front of her and waited for her to respond._

"_D'lara's ready to deliver. She needs you to do this for her. There is something wrong."_

_She leaned against the table with folded arms and glared. She nodded for the door and they proceeded to exit the chamber silently. When the bolt latched shut she turned to the worry-worn elf and began to walk towards the stairs. She glimpsed Fenris' door, still ajar and harboring the darkness within._

"_Why me? I don't know how to deliver a child," she muttered through her own nausea._

"_I know you bear no love for her, but with most of the more experienced women either dead or indisposed at the moment you were our last resort," he explained as he walked behind her in submission._

"_Why not get Hadriana? She could do it." The man stopped and stared at her for even posing the question. She sighed in exhaustion and followed the screams that were coming from the slave's quarters. "Fine. I'll see what I can do; but no promises."_

_His face lit up as they entered the room. D'lara was on her back, knees to her chest in agony. Adria took her place at the foot of her bed and rolled her sleeves up. The head was already crowning as she drenched a rag in hot water. The more the elf pushed, the farther it emerged. The slimy bulbous head protruded from her like a growth. She reached out and felt the tautness of the umbilical cord wrapped around its throat. _

_She told her stop and fight the urge to bear down again. D'lara panted as Adria slipped her fingers between the cord and the emergent babe's throat. She felt the veins pulse in it as she pulled it over the baby's head. It was a double strangulation. Its purple skin began to lighten again as she moved the second loop around. She gave the go-ahead to continue. She watched it fall in to her hands in a gush of hot fluid and blood. She asked for two pieces of twine and tied off a section of cord before cutting it loose. _

_Her head beaded with sweat that stung her eyes. She rapidly began to cleanse the child off and swaddle it in the raggedy blanket they had for him. She handed it to the expectant mother and stood up. Her hands were bloody and in all the chaos of delivery, she was exhilarated. _

"_Thank you," D'lara jubilantly said. "You won't regret this."_

* * *

><p>"How did you know it wasn't his?" Keir questioned with a raised eyebrow.<p>

"The ears. They were human."

"And he never noticed?"

"I don't think he wanted to. I think he enjoyed the prospect of being a father. Who was I to intrude on that?" Adria pondered out loud.

"So you never told him?" the elf's voice became shriller.

"To this day: never. It's bad enough he thought I had a hand in the death of the kid, and I don't want his memories to be polluted by the lie," she explained. "I might do it eventually, but things are still so raw for him about that. I don't think he's really dealt with it at all."

"That's awfully generous of you. If it were me…"

"Be glad it wasn't," Adria interrupted. "In my line of 'work' secrecy was paramount. This was no different."

Keir sighed and picked up the sleeping child and started for the door. They looked at each other for a minute before stating that Adria would make a good mother one day. That she would take all the lessons she'd learned to teach her daughters to be as strong as she was. Adria thanked her and waited until she was finally alone to snuff the flame from the half-spent candle. She untied her bodice and set aside. As she undressed for the evening, her hands searched for something, anything that had been Fenris'.

She found the pile of dirty shirts near the bed and picked it up. She breathed it in: his scent in a mix of testosterone and sweat. She pulled it over her head and crawled under the covers. It became the only reminder she had of how he smelt and she wished that it wouldn't fade with time. She turned away from Fenris' side for fear of breaking down at the absence. She didn't want to be reminded of it. It was already too hard to deal with and now the finality of his awayness had snuck its way in the dark to her. She was alone for the first time in her life.

* * *

><p>Fenris looked up at the hunter's moon during his fire watch. He could almost carve out Adria's face; a testament to what was lacking. He missed her joining him at night as he stood guard, handing him tea and talking about random things just to keep the conversation going. It was too quiet for him and every sound that came from the jungles was a tease that maybe she would emerge and sit with him for hours. He missed her voice and the soft chuckle she gave off when she laughed at herself. She was vibrant, beautiful and unguarded when they were alone. He saw sides of her he thought she would never allow to be permitted.<p>

He held up the key and smiled faintly. Everything in her heart and soul went in to setting him loose without her. He almost wanted for her to beg him not to leave, but it wasn't like her to do it so openly. The kisses, the subtle pleading with no words were all trademarks of a woman trying to maintain dignity in a wretched time. It was the other thing that had driven a dagger in to his heart. He had always known how she felt, but to openly admit it to him with no attempt to force it out of him in turn was a more powerful gesture than she could have ever given him. He regretted not telling her the same. It would have given them both a taste of solace in the fact that they both reciprocated their affections.

He wanted to be back at the settlement nestled around her while she slept; to have her head resting on his arm with hot breath that caressed his arm every time she exhaled. Five days seemed like an impossible feat. He had no idea why they were going to the middle of nowhere. The only explanation he received was that it needed to be done.

Imogen sat beside him and eyed the favor with a sentimental smile. Fenris tucked it away and frowned at the intrusion of another invading his thoughts. Regardless of the fact that his shift was over, he thought that the elf was up to something. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to sleep and hurry the dawn in to coming. The sooner it came the closer he was to being back with her and his unfinished fantasies.

He laid down on his bed roll and listened to the sounds of crackling fire. The night never seemed to end. It was eternal and bleak. It lacked heat, life, Adria. It devoured all the warmth from his body and as he grew sleepy from the forced march in to the densest part of the jungles he pulled the key out again and held it under his pillow. He closed his eyes and sighed as exhaustion finally fell over his torn body.

"_I love you."_

"I miss and love you, too."

* * *

><p>The days seemed to last years as she went about her daily constitutional. She had to drag herself out of bed just to fulfill her routine. All her work was half-hearted. As she tended to the children she was constantly on the lookout for Fenris' return. She would think that she heard his voice over all the others, but it was a ghost of a memory.<p>

The nights were the worst. She would roll over and feel the vacant side where Fenris slept devoid of life. It was always made, awaiting the revisitation of its owner. It would wake her up periodically to feel the emptiness of warmth or the subtle whistle of his breathing. She adjusted her necklace as she stared at the top of small, canvas tent, hoping he'd be returning that night.

It was the fifth day where things progressed at their quickest. She was excited and could hardly contain herself throughout the day. Everything she did reminded her of him. The conversations she had with Saarebas were done confidently as if her love was standing beside her. They all noticed the change in her. The shadow that she once was had been exchanged with a different woman who smiled. She played diamondback for the first time and lost horribly. She was sure they had cheated, but when the bets mainly contained shifts to be swapped, all she could use as barter was babysitting and other womanly duties.

They weren't amused by it and weren't about to have her going on night patrols to make up for her lose. She would stay there and be protected by the others as she always had. Even though she stated with a chuckle that she could handle herself – which wasn't in dispute – they declined her offer of going off in to the jungles to walk around in the muck.

"_That was Fenris' job."_

A blind Rivaini woman pulled her aside and sat with her. They spoke albeit briefly about the goings on in her life. Multitudes of questions about her well-being were answered with half-truths and worried eyes. The sun was nearly set when it had donned on her that the hunters along with Fenris hadn't returned yet. Saarebas had warned her that it might take more time than he had estimated, but they would get back as soon as they could.

The elderly woman ran her bony finger over her palm. She commented on the raised scars in her hand and continued humming as she read her fortune. While she wasn't interested in mysticism or oracles, she was warned by the old crone that it was impolite to say no to a Rivaini seer when there was a fortune to be told.

"You've led a hard life, my dear," she stated.

Adria smirked at the obviousness in her statement and nodded.

"Was it that obvious?"

"It was. The scars that mark you only run skin deep. It's the ones of the soul that will linger after all is said and done. You have regrets about things that were beyond your control. Do not hang on to those. They are the work of another… a man who still hides in shadows. Your life is far from turning to the better, Adria. Be ready to lose before you've won."

"I will," she said with a lopsided smile. "Thank you."

She was going to prepare her meal when the woman grabbed her hand.

"It'll happen. You'll get what you've desired by the end of it all."

Adria shivered at the thought. She was anxious, worn and fretful. She could barely stomach the food that she was trying to consume. She was became so fixated on the encroaching darkness that she pardoned herself and stood at the edge of the firelight. She twisted the ring on her finger and when her quiet pleas were not received she retreated.

Another day. A sixth day that wasn't supposed to happen but did anyway. It was quickly followed by a seventh and eighth. Each one drained her more than the previous ones. Her anticipation turned to panic as the ticking minutes passed. Maybe he wasn't going to come back. Maybe he didn't want to anymore. He was finally free to do as he pleased, free of her presence. Maybe they were taken captive. A plethora of paranoid thoughts raced through her mind. She wouldn't sleep until she knew for certain.

It wasn't long before she found herself lying in bed wearing his shirt and sobbing in to her pillow. Her body expended so much energy letting the pent up emotions out that she succumbed to her body's need to sleep. She had lost, yet again, to keep control over an impossible situation. He now had her broken heart and was free to do with it as he wanted.

* * *

><p>They hurried through the night to get back to the settlement. None of them were willing to spend another night from loved ones. Their pace was quickened at the thought of being in places familiar. He longed to get in back to his domicile and find Adria sleeping. He would wake her with a flurry of kisses and make his return a night they both would never forget. He was going to do it. He'd already vowed to make her his in his own funny little way.<p>

They rushed through dense jungle with their packs half empty, sore beyond belief as the moon hung high in the night's sky. It dimly lit the way in front of them. As much as their bodies begged them to stop and rest; they persevered only by the sheer want of returning home. She was his home and life. A return to the mundane lifestyle that had suited them in a haphazard way was just what the healer ordered.

His lungs were on fire with gulps of cold air he inhaled. He could almost make it out in the distance and pointed ahead for the others. They sped faster nearly at a sprint and slowed the closer they came. Winded and weary, they paused to catch their breaths. They were so close, yet so far. The distance between them and the familiar seemed to be an impossible expanse.

"That is a beautiful sight," Imogen muttered. He patted Fenris on the back and chuckled. "What do you plan on doing when you get back?"

"Sleeping," he grumbled as he brushed the elf's hand from his shoulder.

"Is that all?" one of the hunters prodded with eye brows waggling.

Fenris scowled and continued walking. He didn't like his privacy being invaded with inane questions. Yes, maybe he'd pondered ravaging her in a fit of sexual frustration, but the first time should have been tender; a holy communion where her divinity became the reason for existing. He didn't want to take from her. On the contrary, he wanted to give back all the things she had lost.

The night watch welcomed them with handshakes and helped them unload their burdens. Fenris refused their offers of aid and made haste to his Adria. A candle burned brightly in the center of the room illuminating the slumbering woman. He slipped out of his armor and pulled his britches up. He sat beside her and brushed away the fine black strands of hair from her face. He smiled at her grumbles and the rapid flip to her back.

He pulled the blankets over him as deftly as he could and placed his hand on her stomach. He felt the scar from Danarius' attack and the other made from Saarebas to save her live. His hand kept exploring stopping short when his hand reached cold steel. He was confused by the odd stimuli and lifted the blankets away. She argued in her sleep when he pulled his loose fitting shirt up and met with a strange iron contraption. A heavy lock held it fast and in seconds his heart was crushed.

He saw the runes carved in to the metal and knew that it wasn't a standard padlock. He sighed and shook his head.

"Oh, Adria," he whispered.

He grasped the belt lying beside the bed and looked at the key. Whose freedom had really been won? He laid waste to the life of the flame that danced upon the candlestick. The key glimmered in the pitch dark. He heard the hum of magic in it. He placed it to his ear, but the sound surrounded him. The small skeleton key wasn't large enough to produce such a sound. He searched high and low in the black. He sat there staring at the key and thinking of what else could be creating the buzz.

It wasn't until Adria rolled towards him that he realized what it was. He almost burst in to laughter at the thought. It couldn't have been that obvious. Danarius wouldn't have been that stupid.

_Of course he was. How else was he going to leash his two most prized possessions? With joint locks and a master key to control them both._


	25. Chapter 25

He watched her sleep making observations about the way her eyelashes fluttered or the subtle quiver of her lips when her breathing would hitch in a fright. His body screamed for what it desperately wanted. It was demanding it with aching joints and torn muscles that he sleep. He wouldn't give in to the pleas of his natural inclinations. The rising sun brought forth movement from the other awakening residents. Soon she would join him again consciously. She was a sleeping beauty that laid beside him until the morn signaled her to arise.

She stretched with a groan; her back arching with unparalleled flexibility. His hand grasped her hip playfully, refusing to give back the bony prominence to its owner. Her abdominal muscles grew taut the further she went backwards, unaware that he was there. Still half-asleep and yawning she returned to her natural position and stared at him. It was if the message wasn't being sent or she was imagining him being there. The more she roused from her state of slumber the more sequence of events swirled by in rapid succession.

Her eyes enlarged and as she rubbed them to see if they weren't deceiving her, he laughed at the coyness of her smile. She was overjoyed and he was enraptured. The morning couldn't have started any better than it had. It was like watching a morning glory open when the day broke the horizon. It was thoughtful and peaceful as if serenity couldn't hold a candle to the splendor of such a delicate life unfolding.

"Good morning," he said with a gentle caress to her cheek.

She sighed at his touch and smiled.

"Good morning," she repeated. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Since I got back," he replied. She blushed with embarrassment and pulled the blanket over her face to hide it from him. He moved it aside and smirked. "There's nothing wrong with watching you sleep."

His hand slid down her neck and across her chest. He brought her closer to him and made his way in gentle embraces with his lips, tasting the fruit he had longed to taste again. He snaked his hand up the rough shirt separating them and felt the ridges of her ribs expand and contract as she respired in hurried breath. He was growing hard in his britches and as it brushed against her thigh she shuddered in anticipation. He rolled her on to her back and separated her legs with his knee.

Her body bowed as his tongue invaded her mouth. She moaned the further his hand slipped down her side. The soft jingle of metal sung the more her body moved under his. Her hands fought the strap that lashed around his waist keeping back the aroused part of him. He drifted further down letting the distraction of their kissing keep her busy. Then he heard it, the key turning in the cylinder and the shackle breaking open and hanging there swinging.

She pulled away in fear and looked down at the swaying open padlock with the key still lodged in it. She looked up at him questioningly and again to the device coming loose. He unhooked the opened lock and tossed it on to the ground beside him. She pulled her pelvis up and let the heavy contraption be slid out from under her. The worked quickly to regain what was going on before the holdup at the gates. He watched as the heat from her body began to wash over him. He parted her delicately letting each texture be thoroughly explored before moving further in. She was hot, slick and velvety. Each inch he gained became a new lesson in control. He was fully willing to delve in to her in one thrust but this was a moment where time was not an issue and patience would be rewarded to the fullest extent of the word.

He was almost fully in her, feeling her body relax from nervousness. He looked in to her eyes and saw a flooded anxiety build in her. She was overcome with curiosity and fear – both a dangerous combination in equal measure – as to what to expect. She didn't know how to proceed or to give in and let him take control like Danarius had always done. The years of conditioning for this event had left a toll on her. It was always about the master: what she could do, how to do it and when. There was no enjoyment for her in it. It was never allowed to be an experience of enlightenment, but of pain and degradation.

He tried to calm her with sweet kisses and whispered nothings. As he began to move in her she closed her arms and he witnessed her change from the frightened virginal woman he knew she was deep inside to a woman who was willing to give him whatever he asked. He didn't want anything from her if she wasn't inclined to give it. His muscles shook as her hand came up to his neck and pulled her down to him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled in to her deeper. She gasped as if all the air had been sucked away.

"Fenris! You in there?" Kallen called from behind the closed flap.

They both froze and looked at where the voice came from. She pulled him back and moved around him; her body taking in the fullness of him in swaying motions that would send him over the edge if he wasn't careful. It was bliss and passion wrapped in a simple moment of unity. They moved together letting her body use him as much as he used her. He pinned her hip to the bed to still her. His head was swimming with unconventional thoughts. Ones that weren't meant to be there in the first place at that time. They were only shadows to him; each made less sense than the one before it.

"Where is he? He's late for patrol," Imogen grumbled.

"I don't know. Maybe he's still sleeping."

The lovers groaned at the intrusion. They weren't going to be able to finish their singular thought. He landed on top of her and muttered in to the pillow. Adria held him close and kissed his shoulder. It wasn't over, they would finish this later. Preferably sooner and when the odds of being interrupted were far less than what they were now.

"Damn it," she muttered with a chuckle as he threw his armor on with sweat clinging to his hair. "They are really going to make fun of you today."

"Why do you say that?" he snorted sarcastically.

"You're loud," she said with a grin.

"Eh… pardon?" he questioned at a loss.

"Loud. Do you realize you were speaking arcanum through it and rather oddly I might add," she stated with a wink.

"Fine, make fun of me. See where that gets you," he warned with a smile.

"Will it get me back in to bed with you right now so you can prove me wrong?"

"Tempting. You're beautiful, Adria, but we both know that it will have to wait till this evening."

"Of course," she said with a frown. "You don't want to keep the patrol waiting."

He turned from her and resumed readying for the exhausting day ahead. He heard the rumpling of sheets and glanced over his shoulder as she pulled his shirt over her head. Long silvery scars laced across her back as a reminder of Danarius' cruelty. She pulled her black dress on and rose. He looked away from her and clasped his belt around his waist. Her arms came up around him and her head rested on his back. He let her hold him in an expression of complete devotion.

He faced her and gave her a kiss before heading out. She followed quickly behind him, still tying the lace to her gown. The patrolmen looked at his damp hair and disheveled appearance and stifled the grins that they knew he would scowl about. There was no way to escape it, they would prod him for information he refused to divulge and listen to their snide remarks about her performance. The typical comments he'd heard from them before, but now they had whatever proof they needed to relentlessly goad him the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Adria went about her morning with a skip in her step. The freedom achieved by discarding the device that demeaned and humiliated her made her in light in mood. She smiled and hummed as she foraged, much to the giggles that the other women were giving her. The blush to her cheeks and the simple gait were one clue to her unleashing, but it was the sparkle in her eye that had given her away.<p>

Keir was the first to say something about it. She seemed overjoyed in the change in disposition and congratulated her on the release of her mortal bonds. Everything seemed to be playing out as if a dream had occurred in real time. She never wanted to wake up from it if it was. She glowed with exuberance all the way back to camp, the basket she used pressed against her hip. The children circled around her and begged for another story and she graciously told one in a very animated fashion. The children squealed as the tale reached its climax. A new life was breathed in to her and as she concluded her story, she looked around for Fenris' patrol. She returned to her tent and grabbed the clunky metal object and tucked it in to her pack. She hurried to the river's edge and threw the heavy disgusting tool in to the water. There was no need to see it, no need to remember it now.

Keir was walking with the three month old. Adria couldn't help but walk over and coo to the smiling bundle that had begun to sprout teeth in its gummy smile. She allowed herself to entertain the idea of having her own. The ability to conceive a child through her own will and be overcome with joy at the response of the life she brought in to the world.

"Adria," the elf said suddenly. She grabbed her arm forcefully and drew her attention to a group of visitors approaching the camp. She knew the armor and weapons. Easily they were Tevinter in make and the man at the head of the pack was the one person she dreaded seeing most of all.

"Take the women and children and hurry in to the jungles," she ordered rapidly. Several of the warriors were arming up at the sight of the uninvited guests. She waved them to lower their weapons and waited for them to stop. "Whatever happens, don't interfere."

"What about you?" the old qunari asked.

"Just get a message to Fenris to not return. Tell him I died and that Danarius has returned."

"Don't be foolish about this."

"I'm not. This is the sanest thing I've ever done," she remarked over her shoulder as she took a step away from the group.

The magister grinned when he saw her and beckoned her to come to him. She refused with a glare and shook her head.

"Now Adria, I didn't come all this way for you tell me no. Come to your master like a good girl and no one will be hurt," he said with a menacing look.

Her head lowered. She was defeated, he had found her and the freedom that came at the right time was going to be stripped away again. She struggled to get to him. She scuffled her feet when they refused to move anymore. The closer she got the more ill she became. He took her hand in his and pulled her nearer to him.

"Adria?" Saarebas questioned. "Who is this man?"

"The only questions that are going to be asked are mine." Keir and the women bolted for the jungles. Danarius rallied four of the slavers and told them to go after them. Adria closed her eyes at the screams of the women and children being silenced one by one. "Where's my little wolf?"

"He's not here," she muttered.

"That's a lie, my love," he growled. He slapped her across the face and glared angrily at her. "You know how much I hate it when you lie." He yanked her up by her arm and wrapped his arm around her waist. She felt him pawing around her waist and stopped. He grabbed her by the hair and wrenched her head back. He was looking down at her. Death and rage flashed in his eyes. It was only the tears that she shed that kept him from killing her on the spot. "Where is he?"

"I'm not going to tell you. You'll have to kill me," she muttered. He threw her to the ground and began kicking her. She tried to shield herself from the blows when a sharp kick to the ribs made her gasp in agony. She choked and coughed spitting blood in to the dirt when he finished. "Jealous, Danarius? You only get this way when you think someone else has something you believe is yours. What if I told you I never belonged to you in the first place? You never had power over me to begin with."

She began to get up off the ground. If her freedom was going to be taken away she was going to die before it happened. He punched her in the mouth and sent a mist of red in to the air. Her teeth rattled in her head and another spurt of blood spat out of her mouth. The sky was in front of her face, white clouds hovered overhead. Everything looked so tranquil in the heavens that watched her battered body be defiled by her master.

He forced her legs open and slid his fingers in to her. They moved and twitched sending a wave of pain through her lower abdomen. He glanced at him in anger as he withdrew his dampened fingers and ran his thumb over the viscous fluid. He examined it and sighed.

"Get up. And don't toy with me this time," he ordered. She got to her knees, where he grabbed her chin and smeared the clear fluid across her face in disgust. "It seems you have been playing with others far too much. Who was it? The horn heads? The knife ears? One of the humans _or_ was it Fenris himself, testing the master's property? Did you climax for him like you've done so for me? Tell me Adria: what was it like to be bedded by an inferior person?"

"I hope he kills you one day," she spat.

He grabbed her by the throat and drew closer. He looked her over and smiled. He spun her around when his attention was directed elsewhere. She heard him unsheathe his dagger and felt the cold razor's edge press in to her throat. She swallowed trying to hide the terror she was feeling. His hand fell to the small pendant and ripped from her neck. He eyed it and with a vindictive spirit threw it to the ground.

"Do not try my patience, slave. I won't ask again: _where is he_?" he hissed.

* * *

><p>The patrol seemed uneventful. While they hacked their way through the underbrush little talking passed between them; they were on constant alert for movement. The jungle was an entity all its own. They knew the path they were on was directing them in to Tal-Vashoth territory, but as the route permitted they cut in to the lush thickness; determined to avoid the dishonorable qunari that stalked the region.<p>

As they were circling back around to head back to camp, Fenris stopped and spotted movement coming towards them. He couldn't make out what it was. Perhaps an animal of the large boar kind or a Tal-Vashoth patrol had finally caught wind of them? He drew his weapon and signaled the men to the sway of leaves from the ferns. The air stilled, there was no noise but the scuffling of leaves underfoot. They waited for a visual of what was hunting them.

A small quilled animal came through the rough and scurried under the roots of a leaning tree. He gave the 'all clear' and continued walking. He couldn't wait to see Adria again. He was sweaty and dirty. Leaves were in his hair and had fallen in to his collar. They itched as the fine fuzz fell off. She would soothe his irritated skin. She always had some concoction at the ready in the event they came across some poisonous plant that would infect him with rashes. It was all part of the job. While it was disgusting and filthy, being amongst the trees and away from the city seemed to fall in to the scope of freedom.

"Fenris!" a teenage boy called. He knew him, barely of hunting age and had been on patrol with him once before. "There's a problem back at camp."

He hurried up to him, flanked by the other warriors and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"What's happened?"

"Some man came with several soldiers. Adria appeared to know him. She told me to tell you not to come back."

"Is that all?" he yelled when his heart stopped. "Is she alright?"

"She was fine when I saw her. She just told me to tell you to run," the youth stuttered.

"Danarius," he scowled. "We need to get back there. Now!"

"You heard what Adria said. If your old master did return, this is your chance to escape," Imogen said. "By now they are probably gone with her in tow."

"No, I know Danarius: he won't leave unless he has his precious pet back," the elf growled through clenched teeth. "He'll level that entire camp to find me, killing everyone in the process. We go back."

They made haste; cut and bruised from stumbling they took the fastest path possible. They came up on a scene they weren't prepared for. Bodies, broken, bloody and cooling rapidly. An assortment of flesh and ages face down, cut down and left to rot in the heat of day. Kallen began turn over the corpses one by one. He couldn't tell which one was his wife. All were too heavily painted in blood. Matted hair clung to their faces. Fenris could only watch as the grieving man fell to his knees beside Keir. Her lifeless body shielded their child from the attack, but even the newborn was motionless. He bent down over the crying man and dead beloved. Blue lips and closed eyes told of a tragic passing.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. He looked towards camp and heard the sounds of Adria arguing. She yet still lived. He patted Kallen on the back and motioned for them to move on. There was nothing more they could do now. "We might be able to save the rest if we get back in time."

Kallen wiped his eyes and nodded, heartbroken with a building ire that was unshakeable. They crept along, trying to remain unnoticed as long as possible. Then he saw her: knife at the ready to slit her throat from ear to ear. A ghostly white complexion marred by streaks of blood that trickled to the ground from her mouth and nose. She was dazed, confused and still resistant to the pressure Danarius was laying on her. It was in her eyes that she saw her will begin to wane under the abuse. She was resigning herself to death on account of him.

"I'll go back with you, Master Danarius. Just let these people go. Fenris is gone and you won't find him. I promise you once we get back to Minrathous I will submit completely," she moaned.

He couldn't stomach the carnage anymore. There was no need for her to sacrifice herself for him needlessly. He would go with them without a fight. The delusion was over and the heart that he once had been shelved in exchange for the void he was going to return to.

He took a step out from the brush and walked to face him. A dirge played in his head as he stared him down. Immediately he was submissive. Back to his former self: a slave to the master that tracked them down just to recover his property.

"Ah, my little Fenris. I knew you couldn't help but show yourself to your master. It's good to see you again. I've missed you-," he stated. He held the knife tighter to Adria's throat and he winced. "Both of you."

* * *

><p>"How did you find us?" Adria questioned.<p>

"You, my dear," he replied, holding her hand up for her to see. The ring that graced her finger shimmered in the sunlight. He pulled it from her digit and showed her the inscription burned in to it.

_Vivamus ut ligatis._

"Son of a bitch," she muttered.

"Tell him what it says. Show him that it was you that brought me here."

Fenris looked at her questioningly awaiting her to tell him the cryptic writing they had failed to notice. She shuddered and cleared her throat. She could still taste the iron in the back of her throat.

"Ties that bind," she said as clearly as possible.

"You see, Fenris, it was she that got me here."

"Without my knowledge," she argued. She glanced at Fenris and his hurtful eyes. He looked like she had stabbed him in the back. "I didn't know. You have to believe me."

"I do," he grumbled.

"We must be off," Danarius said. "Kill these creatures. Playtime is over."

The elf's eyes went blank as if a control word had been activated. The slavers began to proceed towards their target. It wasn't long before a retaliation of spears and arrows were chucked in their direction. Fenris cut through the warriors with ease, phasing in and out and leaving their bodies to rot like the women and children. Danarius pushed her behind him and began casting magic at incredible speed. A fireball sprawled the fighters at a distance before they could launch a volley at him.

She looked around and was hit in the face with a spray of blood. Imogen, fell to the ground in front of her. Entrails hung from the gaping wound in his torso. She smeared the fluid from her face and ran her thumb across it. Her father, she remembered his arms being cut off at the wrist. The same slash of blood, the same worried look in his eyes before succumbing to blood loss.

Slavers fell around her and Danarius was staggering toward her. He still held the dagger in his hand. He clutched his stomach in pain, spattered in blood and flesh cast off from Fenris' blade he fell before her. She was petrified by the destruction. The bodies that encircled Fenris as he huffed in like a rabid animal.

"Fenris! What did you do?" she wailed. The elf looked at his blood soaked hands and the remains of the warriors felled by his hand. His snow white hair was stained in red droplets that began to run down the length of fringe. He was nearly bathed in it. The blood of friends and allies. She began to walk towards him afraid of what he might do to her if she drew too close. He roared at the top of his lungs like a wounded beast. She stopped and put her hands up to show her she was unarmed.

"Adria?" he asked confused by the shock of the massacre. He bolted away. The final glances of complete and utter shame were the only things that he left behind.

"Adria," Danarius groaned. He held the hem of her dress and began to pull himself up. "Don't you leave me here."

She smirked with evil intent and turned to run in to the jungles after Fenris. A sharp pain hit her thigh and dug deep in to her femur. The sound of metal snapping off turned her in to a raving lunatic. She screamed out to her love but he never showed himself. She felt the dagger's blade scrape along the bone. She pierced the magister with homicidal rage. He stared up at her, pleased that she couldn't move.

"I hate you," she growled. She kicked him as hard as she could in the face and sent him over on to his back. He grimaced and grumbled that he would find her again. It would only be a matter of time.

Hobbling away, adrenaline coursing through her veins, she ran in to the deep jungle. A crack of thunder rolled through the sky above. Dark grey clouds loomed and the smells of rain carried on the zephyr. Plants swayed as the winds bent them toward her. She looked around for signs of Fenris. A small trail of blood followed her, before long it too was washed away by the falling rain. She called to him, her voice growing hoarse. She found him a few kilometers later on an outcropping of rocks. His back was to her. As she began to descend on him her leg gave out on her. She leaned against a tree for stability and waited for her strength to return.

* * *

><p>He could hear her shouting his name in the distance. She was swearing in Arcanum at him every time he refused to entreat her. He was too busy, too crestfallen to go to her. He held his hand up and watched the blood on his gauntlet be washed away from the rain. He reeked of it. It had seeped in to his armor and stained his hair in hints of orange. He didn't want her to see that side of him. The coldness that he could exhibit at the drop of a word. She wouldn't understand. She couldn't. Everything was lost when Danarius came calling.<p>

"Fenris," Adria said winded from her walk. He jumped off the rock and started away from her. He couldn't face her knowing what he did. "Hold up. Where are you going?"

"Away from you," he snarled bitterly.

"From me? Why?"

"Isn't what happened proof enough that I'm a monster capable of terrible things? I'm not meant to be in the presence of such a soul. Why bother feeling anything when the cost is far too great?"

"What are you so afraid of Fenris? Is what we have not worth fighting for?" she yelled over the harshness of the rain.

"It's not fear! And if the risk of losing you seems too great, then no it's not worth fighting. There's nothing more that I want than to know you're safe," he answered broken hearted.

"Don't you dare tell me it's not worth fighting for! I was willing to die for you! Maker, I lied for you! I've done everything I possibly could to show you that!"

"It was a mistake," he muttered.

He heard her footsteps stop. It was the first time in a long time that she was dumbstruck in to silence. He looked over his shoulder and saw the face of a wounded woman.

"You don't believe that," she grumbled. "I've sacrificed everything I am for you."

"I know. I didn't deserve it then and I don't deserve it now."

He noticed her limp as she came towards him. She went to touch him and he pulled away. He shook his head and continued walking.

"What do you see when you look at me, Fenris?" she asked almost inaudibly.

He cringed at the question. The thought of looking at her pained him.

"There's nothing I want more," he muttered to himself. She limped closer to him and leaned against him. "I would fight for you until my last breath if I had to."

"Then it is worth trying, isn't it?"

He gave a solemn nod and put his arm around her. Her trembling muscles gave way as she slid down him. He crouched at her side and shook her. She was a shade of white that glowed in the dimming light. He saw the tear in her gown and lifted it to see the protruding steel sticking out just under her flesh. She came to with a start and grabbed his arm in a panic.

"I have to get it out before infection sets in," he stated.

"I know. It's in the bone," she winced as she pulled her leg up. She cried out as she tried to pull the broken blade from her thigh. She flashed in and out, puking several times before giving up. It was too painful to watch her pull back red fingertips.

"I can do it," he uttered.

"You mean…" she whispered.

He nodded sadly and laid her in the leaves.

"There's a healing potion in my pouch. If I lose consciousness, use that. I won't be able to heal myself."

Her eyes rolled in her head as she faded out. He held his breath and evoked the powers from his lyrium to pierce her flesh. He was as delicate as he could not to tear her open further. When his fingers closed around the sharp metal he pulled it out and threw it aside. He ripped her gown and fashioned a bandage for her thigh. It soon overflowed with water and deep red. He tore the pouch from her belt and dumped it on to the ground. He scattered them in a hurry to find the ampule of elixir.

He held her head up and pulling the cork away with his teeth he forced her to drink the red fluid. She moaned in pain, but was coming to. He smiled and held her close to his chest. He hefted her up to his arms and began to look for a place to take cover from the storm.

_The outcropping had a small cave that we could nestle in till the storm passes._

He began to trudge through puddles and mud. Adria's weight bogged him down and in the dark he could have been walking in circles if it wasn't for the sudden flash of lightning pointing the way to the refuge from the deluge of water. He hoped that nothing resided there and that she would be healed before the rains passed.

They ducked in to cover as the storm turned from rain to ice. He sat her down along the wall and curled around her. If she wasn't ready to go, he'd wait it out till she was. He wasn't going to leave her again, not now. Not ever.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: **Much has been going on in the past couple of weeks and as we all know rl is a bitch, so here is the latest chapter.

**Warning: **Taboo sexual content and what not... you have been warned.

* * *

><p><em>Two years later, Kirkwall…<em>

She sat at the bar of the Blooming Rose awaiting her usual customers. It was always a sickening proposition: selling her body and lying to Fenris. She had told him that she had gotten a job serving drinks, but instead was serving a different type of intoxication. It was something she knew she was good at and while many of the men just wanted the companionship, others wanted the bondage and control removed from them. Many of the nobles liked being submissive until they were on top of her and ramming as hard as they could till their sweat dripped and mixed with hers.

At the end of her night, she would stagger home smelling of stale ale and semen. Walking in to the tiny lean-to that Fenris and she had called home for the past couple of months, she couldn't make eye contact with him. She evaded his questions and recoiled when he went to touch her. The shawl she wore hung loosely in her arms as she kicked her shoes off only to cry herself to sleep. Intermittent interruptions in her sleep from Fenris sliding his hand along her side in anticipation of an amorous moment. His breath on her ear as he whispered softly that everything was alright and he'd figure out a way to get her to Ferelden.

She didn't deserve his devotion. She was a whore and the more he showed his yearnings for her, the more she pushed away. Adria knew that he was trying his hardest to scrounge up the money for the trip, but it was taking a long time to do so. He didn't want to have to work; his markings that drew attention to both of them when they were together had hindered the incognito they were looking to attain. They wanted to put as much distance between Danarius and themselves. But at every turn, his slavers seemed to appear and Fenris would protect her. They had become gluttons for cruelty. Each one took turns torturing and interrogating the last survivor until he usually exsanguinated. As much as Fenris made his attempts at shielding her from the barbaric rituals that he would commit on behalf of their freedom, she knew that deep down that his actions were more from frustration about the independence they had longed for would continue to be corrupted no matter where they ran to.

Whether it was Ferelden or the Kocari Wilds even further south, the master would come and destroy what they had. It wasn't freedom to be on the run in constant paranoia about the possibility that this day or the next he would appear.

She sipped her wine and smiled at Madame Lusine who was watching out for the new customers that were to be coming in. It was a group of three and their first time there. Her new mistress had offered the exotic woman to them at a rather low price: six sovereigns. As her eyes scanned the room at the other "entertainers" she saw the shabbily dressed men walk in the door. They stopped when they saw her and approached Lusine with apprehensive glee.

It wasn't long before she was leading the trio upstairs to a private room. She dreaded the group orgies, but Jethann had reassured her that most just wanted to watch and that being a woman made it easier to please them in one shot (well, technically three). She frowned at the comment as she closed the door behind them and strolled to the bed. Her large green eyes stared up at them as seductively as she could fake and smiled. The men seemed to quake in their boots and the rank smell of cheap mead and cabbage seemed to emanate from them. She sighed and slid the shawl from her body and placed it on the night stand.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"N-n-no," the red headed man replied. He wrung his hands feverishly until Adria looked away.

"Let's start with something simple: name?" she said with a lopsided smirk.

"Jansen," the red head muttered nervously.

His accent was thick Ferelden and it was strange to see someone from her homeland staring down at her, constantly diverting his eyes from hers when he saw the twinkle in her eye. She looked at the blonde portly man and winked playfully. He stammered and sputtered and from his posture seemed like he was going to bolt for the door.

"Earl," he finally mumbled as bravely as he could.

She nodded politely and rose from her perch on the corner of the bed. She circled the three of them, sizing them up for whatever devious plan they had for her. Which couldn't have been much given that they were cowering as she closed on them.

"And you?" she questioned stopping in front of the last man.

His dusky hair and black eyes peered down at her hungrily as she grabbed his finely tailored vest and pulled her closer to him. His hands touched her arms. They were calloused and worked; worn from labor and age. The gaunt facial features were terrifying and as she swallowed down her fear felt his hand reach her waist and slide across the gentle curves of the bones to the supple tissue of her rump.

"Crankovich," he stated slyly.

"Well, what's it going to be boys? Three? Two? One? None? I'm game for anything," Adria said with a shrug. She leaned against the table across the room from them and folded her arms in preparation. The three of them looked at each other and then at her. She could see the anxiety in both Earl and Jansen's faces. It was something that she hadn't been quite prepared for. Most knew before even entering what they had planned to do, but these three seemed to be confused by her line of questioning. "How about a bottle of wine to loosen up and we'll go from there?"

"I don't know if I can do this," Jansen moaned. Adria frowned and sighed. "It's not that you aren't beautiful. Maker, I'd take you in a second, but…"

She looked him over and saw his posture change to one of regret.

"Married?" Jansen nodded slowly and nudged the pudgy man beside him. She lifted an eyebrow at his action and groaned. "You too?"

"Aye. We are fully equipped to have you entertain us this evening, and while I'll be kicking myself for not going through with this, it just seems that you are not quite old enough to even be working here."

Her eyes narrowed on him and for what seemed like an eternity stared at him.

"I'm old enough," she grumbled. She pointed to Crankovich accusingly and cocked her head. "Are you? Or do you have a problem with this as well?"

"Single. Happily so," he bluntly said with a sneer.

Adria chuckled to herself and shook her head. It didn't matter really if they partook in her; they paid in advance and that was all that Lusine had cared about.

"Well, alright then. What is it that you two want? Because I'm pretty sure I know what your friend here is looking for."

"We'll, umm, wait for you outside, I guess, then," Jansen stuttered with a firm slap to the gaunt man's shoulder.

"Aye. Not a problem. I'll be with you after a while," he grinned as he started for the pale woman.

* * *

><p><em>Lowtown at dusk…<em>

Fenris paced around the hide out of one smuggler named Athenril. He had caught word that the slavers had caught up to them yet again. He was hurried and didn't want to make a scene by startling Adria. He had done much to hide her more than himself from Danarius and his lackeys that seemed to scour the lands for his prized possessions. It wasn't long before the elf emerged from behind the closed door that had separated them. She smiled and crossed her arms and with a stern look nodded for him to enter the back room.

"What is it you are asking for?" Athenril questioned as she rounded the desk and planted her hands on the top.

"I need to know if my former master is here," he explained. He coughed abruptly to hide his nervousness about his next line. "My friend and I would like to evade him as much as possible, but we do not want to be directly involved in whatever trap they have set for us. I know they will be waiting, but if Adria or I show up it will not end well."

"And that means what to me? Do you expect me to send my own people to find out what they want?" she asked with a look at the numerous piles of parchment scattered across the desktop.

"No, I want you to set up a meeting with someone. Tell them that some merchandise has been stolen and is looking to be recovered… or something. It doesn't really matter. I just need to know if Danarius is here or not," he remarked.

"First off, payment is upfront. I can get one of my guys to act as the victim, but it'll cost you six sovereigns," the elf said coldly.

Fenris sighed and took the heavy coin purse from his belt. He shook his head at the weight and muttered that Adria would kill him for stealing her earnings. He hesitated and finally convinced himself that she would understand that this was for their safety. He tossed the sack on to the table. It rattled and several coins rolled and flipped on to the floor.

"I know exactly who would fit this job," Athenril said with a smirk. "It might be a little out of the way for them – or beneath them – to be honest, but since I've met them a couple of times I'm sure they will be willing to do it for the cause. I'll set up the cover story and you'll know. Do you want a messenger to come to you for the results?"

"No. I'll be nearby."

Athenril picked up a gold coin and walked it across her fingers before flipping it in the air and catching it. She eyed him suspiciously and frowned again.

"Fine. This friend of yours must be important if you are willing to do this. I wonder if she really knows how far you are willing to go."

Fenris didn't respond. It was something that he had considered; to the Void and back seemed to be a common term thrown around about the distance he was willing to go for her safety, but she was willing to cross the same distance across shattered glass on her stomach for his well-being. Even if she didn't realize how much torture it was to watch all the horrible things happen to her for the sake of him on account of him. She took the blame for everything that had happened and while Danarius was violent with his punishments the look in his eyes was one of self-flagellation. And now for the past year, he knew she had been whoring herself to make sure they could eat. He hated what she had to do and Maker forbid he ever had to see her doing it. It was no secret that she was working with the Coterie as a mistress to some of the nobility and he cursed Danarius for turning her in to a shadow of what she was meant to be.

The look in Adria's eyes, when she came home, was one of humiliation beyond reproach. The way she pulled away from him and muttering as she turned from him that she was unclean, he knew. She didn't have to outright say anything. They were both brainwashed about it. Sexual liaisons were something that just came with the history. As much as he hated it, it was who she was; cultivated to be by a civilization that harbored far more demons than people from the outside world realized.

"It's hard to put in to words," he muttered, turning and heading for the door. "I'm sure she knows how I feel."

"I wouldn't be so certain."

* * *

><p>She cleansed herself and sprayed expensive perfume to hide the stink of her last customer. She tied her hair up and looked at the blackening welt on her thigh. That was kind compared to what Danarius had done to her. The noble was at least "honorable" enough to throw some extra coins her way for his sadistic play and for keeping her mouth shut from Lusine. She gulped her wine and laced the final bindings to her dress. The button hook that rested on the table drew blood as she cut it across her finger to enclose her foot in the intricately stitched shoes.<p>

Porfiria knocked on the door and stuck her head in. She smiled weakly and told the prostitute that her next appointment would be arriving shortly. Adria walked out and spoke with Idunna, who was just finishing up with her client. She looked the small woman over and frowned at the red hand marks on her upper arms.

"You need to tell her," the brunette stated, running her fingers across the raised welts that burned. "Madame Lusine could put a stop to it."

"I doubt it. It's no different from what I've had to endure before," Adria said with a shrug. "He just got overzealous this time around. The coin is good and if it'll get me back to Ferelden – I'll take my lumps."

"Is your friend going with you?" Idunna questioned, following Adria down the stairs and to the bar where Serendipity was perched in a rather disturbing conversation with a potential client.

"If he wants to. His home is in the opposite direction of where I want to go," she explained. Corfius placed a wine glass in front of her with a smile. "It might as well be on the other side of Thedas." She ran her finger around the lip of the glass and stopped. "We had just come from there under some dire circumstances. If he opts to go back, I won't stop him."

"You won't stay with him? You two seem to be attached at the hip for the most part. Why hasn't he ever come in?"

Adria's eyebrow furrowed as her eyes narrowed on the deep red liquor in the glass.

"Because he doesn't need to know what I do. I'd rather not have to do this, but what can I do?"

"Adria, how are you doing?" a dwarf called to her as he entered and calmly approached.

"Varric, it's been awhile. You hardly leave the Hanged Man, what are you doing here?"

"I know. I know. Things got busy. My network has been keeping an eye out for any slavers that might be after you. Seems you were right. A group has come to the city in search of you."

"I figured as much when I saw them walking around Hightown. They always seem so strange in their armor with a bunch of pompously dressed elite nobles strutting around." Her eyes grew wide at the thought that Danarius would be nearby. Varric patted her on the hand reassuringly. "I need to tell Fenris."

"Don't worry your little head, messere. It seems that they are going to be taken care of. Athenril has sent a group to find and eliminate them. It took some string pulling about who was going to attend to your situation, but rest assured all will be well," the dwarf said with a smile.

Adria relaxed and exhaled slowly. She couldn't keep running, eventually she was going to have to stand up to Danarius once and for all. As much as she dreaded seeing him again, it was the only way she knew she could stop running without constantly looking over her shoulder. It was bad enough staying here in the mecca of templars. She'd serviced several of them. The pent up frustration that lingered from dealing with mages at the Gallows came out in rough and unforgiving bouts of hardcore penetration. She bled after many of those appointments, but there fantasies that were to be played out were far more disturbing than the average. Even the best of them would role play with taking advantage of the mages in the tower and she would have those punishments exacted on her.

Viveka poked her in the shoulder and whispered that her next client had arrived. She looked around the room and saw the older man standing there. His greasy hair was slicked back and from the obvious scowl he had, his day was going to be one that she would remedy for him between the sheets. Half the time it was stroking his ego in to submission, the rest was spent fulfilling his desires. They were simple and something she could easily attend to with a smile and kind words. He was lonely and while the time they spent together was spent talking before any acts were ensued, she could relate in part to him.

"How are you doing today, messere?" she asked with a sweeping curtsy.

"Poorly," he snapped.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Adria cooed. "Would you like to head upstairs now?"

"For you, sure," he shrugged with little enthusiasm. "I'm not in the mood for conversation this evening. If we could cut to the chase…" Adria grabbed his hand and led him to the room. "There's something I want to try with you."

Adria stopped short of shutting the door and glanced over her shoulder.

"Anything. You paid for it."

"Now don't give me that!" he growled. He rubbed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. "I don't know if I can even pull this off."

The door latched shut and Adria pressed against it. She cocked her head with a feisty smile on her face. She had never seen him nervous and to her it was cute and unexpected.

"Tell me and it is done." Her head tilted in the opposite direction as her fingers nimbly began to unlace her bodice. She pulled it off and the sheer chemise she wore exposed her gently curved breasts and small perky nipples. He grabbed them with hungry aged hands and rubbed the nubs of pinkish flesh under his finger. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and slathered wet kisses along her shoulder line. She scratched at his back and moaned the harder he became. "What is it you want then?" she questioned through gasping breath.

He unbuckled his belt and hiked up her skirt. He threw her legs around him and slid in to her. He grunted with each move. She bit her lip to keep quiet. Everything was fading in and out as sweat beaded on their skin. His body shivered and shook with each thrust. His hands cradled her ass; fingers digging in to her supple flesh with dirty fingernails.

"I told you I didn't want to talk," he groaned with another forceful thrust.

* * *

><p><em>Lowtown, near the Alienage<em>

He heard the scuffling from a ways away. Anso stammered repeatedly that the job was done. Fenris thanked him and excused himself to attend to the aftermath. He was curious about who these people were that Athenril had assigned to aid him. He headed in the direction of the noise and stuck to the shadows the best he could. The silence followed abruptly as he rounded the corner. He followed two slavers, while hanging back to give them distance. A stern man was barking at his lieutenant in Arcanum about keeping an eye out for city guard and to "deal" with them as necessary.

When the lieutenant was alone, Fenris made his mood. He rushed to him, slamming the human in to a nearby wall. He was submerged in his chest halfway to his elbow. He felt his spine crackle and pop. He swept his hand along his cavity and clawed his liver until it was shredded. His hand wrenched a hunk of the purple meat from him and threw it to the ground.

"Lieutenant!" the angry man called.

The elf and the dying man both looked in the same direction. Fenris dropped him to the ground with a thud. He bent over him and glared.

"Don't keep him waiting," he sneered.

The man staggered to his feet, clutching his chest in anguish. Blood poured over his hands and spilled on the ground in deep red puddles that glistened in the moonlight. He shook his drenched gauntlet letting a dotted line of red appear on the ground next to him.

"Captain?" the lieutenant groaned.

Fenris followed behind him with a satisfied grin on his face. This was easier than he thought. He snickered at the idea of Adria never knowing that Danarius was here. This could be their chance to finally be done with him and his ilk. It would be the most glorious gift that he could give her. No more fear and dread, but life that was deserving of both of them.

The exsanguinating man grunted one last time before tumbling down the steps and dropping dead at the captain's feet. He glanced at the corpse as he passed the captain with a scowl; even though inside he was applauding the inevitable. He looked over the faces of the four man group. They were covered in blood but appeared to be unscathed.

"You're coming with me slave. After we have you in shackles we'll go after your pretty little accomplice and I'll put her on her knees and see how far she's willing to please her captor."

Fenris' eyes went blank. He wasn't a slave and there was no way that he would allow Adria to be used in front of him just to demean the both of them. He spun around and impaled him in the chest, feeling the man's racing heart slam in to the back of his rib cage before exploding in to a rush of fluids and tissue. He gasped and shook, their eyes locking on each other as the captain grew white. He winced once; a single drip of spittle fell from his lips as they quivered. Blood crept in to the corners of his opened mouth.

"You will do nothing of the sort. We aren't slaves anymore," he growled, withdrawing his hand from the man's body. He pushed him aside and returned his attention to the stunned onlookers. "I apologize for having to put you through this."

The four of them stared at him. A woman with platinum white hair sheathed her sword and glared. The three men with her were confused. He didn't know what they were staring at, but from the collective glares that were thrown at him, he worried that he would have to slay them as well.

"Where's Adria?" the woman asked forcefully.

Fenris took a step back and gripped the pommel of his sword. He didn't know how they knew of her, but he was going to protect her the best that he could. He knew he couldn't take the four of them together and yet was willing to die to keep her secret.

"What are you doing here?" a blonde man questioned, slinging his staff over his shoulder.

"Do I know you?"

"You don't remember?" the woman queried.

He shook his head slowly. To ease his instantly frazzled nerves, he decided to rummage through the captain's pack for any information on the whereabouts of Danarius. He found the folded scroll with the broken seal of the magister on it. He opened it and frowned. It was then that he wished Adria was there to read the document for him. He grumbled softly to himself before handing the letter to the woman.

"Read this," he harshly ordered. The woman stared at the torn paper and then to him questioningly. "I can't read it."

He watched her eyes scroll across the paper in thought. She crumpled it up and tossed it over her shoulder. Fenris was dumbfounded. The audacity that this woman had for a simple request, while forceful, didn't require the brash insult to him.

"Hightown. Danarius is in Hightown," she muttered.

"Then we must go there," he replied hurriedly.

"Wait a minute. Is she even with you or did you leave her in Tevinter?" the blonde mage blurted out.

"I'll take you to her once we take care of the magister. I don't want her knowing he was here," Fenris stated. "It's just a simple thing. If you know Adria, then you also know what she was to Danarius."

"We do," she snorted. "I'd make introductions, but we obviously don't have time for that."

* * *

><p>They ran to Hightown. All the steps they climbed seemed to lift them further in to the heavens. It was a rarity that Fenris would have even stepped foot in to the upper echelon's abode. He tended to stay in the depths of the Undercity for the sake of appearance. When they reached the address on the letter the white haired woman stopped him before they entered.<p>

"Alistair, stay here and keep an eye out for the city guard. I don't need them interrupting us while we go murder this son of a bitch," she ordered with a subtle blush to her cheeks from the encapsulated body heat that couldn't escape from her armor.

She pulled her sword from its sheath and nodded for Fenris to open the door. He obliged and led them in to the darkness within the mansion.

"Do you think this is a good idea, Neveren?" the mage questioned.

She turned to him and glared. Even through the heavy plate Fenris could see her muscles growing tense. It was the one thing he couldn't stand: a whiny mage. Though the four of them had all acknowledged the fact that they knew the both of them from when they were in Tevinter.

"This is Adria we're talking about. Do you think it's fair that we have lived in freedom from our titles while she has been a leashed slave to a bastard like their master?" she argued with a hard shove to his shoulder.

"I know we should do this for her, but when is it going to be enough. We're mages and Wardens, not mercenaries."

Fenris looked at Neveren angrily. He thought he sensed something off about the woman. Of course she was a mage; they had that smell of liquid lyrium from the vials they would imbibe from. He shook his head and sighed.

"If you two plan on arguing, I'll continue on by myself," he huffed.

"No we're coming. Let's get this over with," Neveren snapped.

They walked through the house. An eerie wind whistled through the rafters of the massive estate. It was no wonder Danarius chose this place: it varied little from his estates in Minrathous and Seheron. As they entered the main hall a swarm of shades attacked. They come from all sides. Fenris rushed at them, putting as much distance between himself and the mages. He glanced over his shoulder at Neveren who was surrounded by four of them. She cut them down with ease. She moved smoothly past them. The mage was a rather strong swordswoman in her own right.

The creatures shrieked and turned to a black ichor that slipped between the crevices of the stone tiles. They marched up the flight of stairs to the only location left to search: the master bedroom that overlooked the entire hall. Neveren started up the stairs and kicked in the door. Fenris slid beside her and entered the room. He dropped his sword to the ground and scowled. Danarius wasn't here and as he looked around the room his weariness shrieked strongly in his ears.

"Where is he?" Anders asked.

"Gone," Fenris remarked uncomfortably. "I thought we would have made it here in time." His breath hitched as the thought that the magister went in pursuit of Adria. He picked up his sword and left the room. "We need to get to Adria; she may be in danger," he called over his shoulder.

He led them to the entrance to the Blooming Rose and refused to enter. Neveren looked around at the hookers that were soliciting their services to passers-by. When her black eyes locked on him, he was aware that she was infuriated by the brothel that Adria was working in.

"She's working here? You allowed her to resort to this?" she hissed coarsely.

"I…" Fenris stammered. "I don't like the idea either. She chose to do this."

"And that makes it okay?" the mage argued.

"Of course not," Fenris sighed. "I'll come in and get her with you. Hopefully she isn't busy."

"She better not be," Neveren threatened.

They walked in to the establishment, eyes darting around over the various women that were waiting for clients and other buyers. The elf's heart raced at the lack of Adria in the large room. He shuddered at the thought of Adria in the provocative positions that she was no doubt doing to please strange men that would invade her the way he had wanted to.

"Neveren," a voice called from the bar.

The group approached, undaunted by the hustle and bustle of flesh freely for sale. The woman took control of the situation before he could.

"Varric, what are you doing here?" she asked with a smile.

"I came to see Adria. I see you finally ran in to Fenris. I take it your business is concluded?" Varric questioned playfully.

"Have you seen their master come in here?" she queried without answering his questions.

"Always business with you, isn't it? You remind me of Bartrand," he snorted. He took a sip of his ale and slammed the mug on the counter. "To answer your question: no I haven't."

"Where is she then?" Fenris finally chimed in.

"With a customer," he replied with a thumb pointing in the direction of the only door closed on the upper level. Fenris started in the implied direction when the dwarf blocked him from proceeding any further. "Neveren, there is something you should know before you go up there…"

* * *

><p>She rode him, letting her hips sway in movements that mocked ocean waves. Her body throbbed as he pulsed in her. He was building to his climax as she bent down over him. Her breasts brushed his chest in sweeping motions. Every muscle clenched at once the more the sweat slid down her bare skin. The sheets that wrapped around her were damp with secretions and joined perspiration.<p>

She closed her eyes as her body sent him over. His back arched angrily as he leapt over the edge in to a hot pool of bliss. She started giggling sweetly as he readjusted under her. They both were enjoying the moment of afterglow when a loud smashing sound came from the direction of the door. Adria pulled the blankets over her exposed body.

"Hey, this is my time with her! Leave us be!" her customer growled.

A second violent jolt flung the door open. In the bright chandelier light that poured in from the hallway she could make out five bodies looking on them. She shielded her eyes to get a better look. They looked familiar in some way. As she looked them over she saw the pointed ears and white hair of Fenris.

"Oh Maker," she gasped. "What are you doing here?" She yanked the sheet off the bed, exposing her nude partner to the group and hurried to the far side of the room. The full on shame and fear surged through her. He wasn't supposed to know. He couldn't know it was her burden that she carried. It was better that he was oblivious. She sobbed and shook. She hid her face from him, all the while feeling his eyes on her.

"I came to see if you were alright," he replied coldly. "And I find you in bed with…"

She heard his footsteps growing closer. The cold steel of his gauntlet hit her hot skin and sent shivers down her spine. She pulled away and dropped to the floor. Her knees couldn't take it anymore. She was wounded and embarrassed by the whole thing.

"Don't. I don't deserve this. I'm a whore. Nothing has changed in nine years. I've gotten by with seduction and what I've been given. You don't need to put up with this," she sobbed.

"Adria, I've known for some time now that you've been doing this. It's no secret in Darktown about your occupation. It was hard at first to accept that you were doing it, but would it have been any different from you serving Danarius? I still want you and now that I have dealt with the hardest part of someone else being with you I know why you had been rejecting me."

"Because I'm filthy. I'm poison," she sulked.

"Then I'll drink you gladly," he remarked with a small chuckle. "We've come too far for us to not play the deadliest game. You've already tainted me with your essence long ago, what's an eternity?"

"I'm sorry to break up this touching moment between you two, but- Uncle, what are you doing with my cousin?" Neveren shrieked in disgust.


	27. Chapter 27

The words were venomous from the blond woman glaring at her from the door. The question she posed might have been for the man trying to hide his shame, but it was directed at her just the same. They looked at each other and a sickening feeling came over her. She began to salivate profusely – the warning signs of an influx of spontaneous emission - before retching wine and bodily fluids mixed with small nibbles of food on to the floor.

"What in the Maker's name are you talking about, girl?" he growled as he pulled his britches up.

"That's Leandra's daughter, you idiot," the woman fired back as she offered him his shirt with the tip of her blade.

Adria kept purging all remnants that her weakened constitution would allow. Her muscles twitched and vibrated with each violent upheaval. Her eyes spilled tears with the force followed by brutal fits of coughing. Bile that seared her throat couldn't be contained as the nausea subsided in to a flood of memories of the faded face of the woman she once knew as Leandra. She watched her fall away, unable to save her as much as her small hands held on. She failed and now the blurry lines that spread across the landscape of her life had been crossed in disapproving obliviousness.

"I haven't seen Leandra in years, Neveren. How was I supposed to know that this girl was hers?" he questioned fully unaware of the glares that Fenris and Adria were shooting at him. "She looks nothing like her mother. She very well could be a mage given this damn bloodline I married in to. Look at her," the greasy man nodded in her direction. With Fenris' aid, she stood and pulled her clothes over her head. "She certainly can cast a spell on a person."

She felt the elf press against her back in an attempt to get at the slovenly man. Adria shook her head and whispered to him that it was alright. It couldn't get any worse. His head swiveled to them. He still looked satisfied by what had happened, causing her to feel ill again. She clutched her stomach to fight the urge to vomit. Fenris placed his hand on hers and rubbed her back affectionately. She closed her eyes and silently cried. Her usually unemotional outbursts that were held for privacy came out in a shockwave of dripping red tears.

"You don't know anything," she muttered softly. "Leandra's dead, Malcolm is dead, Bethany is dead, Carver is dead… _I _am dead. Their oldest girl died in a land that wasn't hers to a man who would have been executed any place else in Thedas. He was a sadist; manipulative and cruel. He took my childhood away and replaced it with a shallow way of life."

"Don't preach to me, Adria. You work in a brothel now. If you are looking for absolution go to the chantry for that – you won't get it from me. As far as I'm concerned, you are just a tramp that I used for my own purposes. That family of yours was dead to me long before you came along," he snapped coldly. As his eyes scanned the pair he smirked before standing and strolling to the door casually. "Which is no different from the fact that she's by the side of some elf. Figures that she would be, from what I hear from Gamlen: Leandra had a propensity for taking in strays as well."

Adria's hands balled in to fists. She grew hot with rage. It was untamable in her hour of despair. The deep wounding verbal assault on her was one thing, but to insult the memory of her mother and family was a target she wouldn't stand for. She hurried after him, passing Neveren in pursuit of her uncle. Complete tunnel vision set in as she withdrew the short dagger from the Warden's belt and hurried after the bastard that slandered her. Calls for her to stop and think about what she was doing fell on deaf ears. They were nothing but a buzzing that caused more irrationality to follow suit in her fight to maintain that demure decorum she had kept intact for the sake of appearances. He wasn't the first person to speak ill of her or her past, but she forbade herself from enacting a passion filled murderous rampage on those that had. Danarius had broken her down for it. Submission was easy when you were bashed in the head repeatedly about the death of an old life and that property didn't necessitate having a past.

She followed him down the stairs, never being more than a few feet away. Her fingers were white with the vice-like grip she held on the dagger. Madame Lusine was yelling for her to back down and called for several Coterie bodyguards to intervene. She didn't care anymore what the madam would do to her for disregarding her requests. Adria reached out and grabbed the man by the collar. Her feminine hand wrenched him down on to the table beside her. He gagged as the stiff cloth cut in to his throat and cut off his air supply. Several men jumped from their chairs and scurried away. She hopped on the table and straddled him. He looked at her stunned by the small assailant that was eyeing him with a fiery hatred.

She smashed a half downed bottle of mead on the table top and squinted menacingly at what she was going to do to him with it. Through her blood soaked tears, her uncle's face morphed to Danarius'. He was leering at her, provoking her in to doing something to him. She slammed the jagged edges of the broken bottle in to his sleeve and grinned when he screamed. The cut in the coarse cloth exposed a small gash from the glass. She leaned over him and smiled. She was enjoying the torture. He deserved it. They all did. She pressed the razor sharp point under his chin and cocked her head in thought of the punishment she was going to exact on him.

"I was a slave of the Imperium since I was six," she hissed coldly. She pushed the dagger tighter against his soft flesh. She watched him swallow; the contraction of his throat muscles was erratic and tense. "If we were family things could have been different, but you are just another person who is willing to use someone." Her eyes narrowed further taking in the panic of the scared and squirming man under her. He was frozen in place for fear that she would slice him. "My various iterations of self are the product of what I've endured. I have loved and lost…" She finally looked to Fenris and frowned before returning to her original victim. "I have hated and remembered while others have forgotten. I sacrificed, martyred and committed enough suicidal acts that the vacant Maker would take notice just to cast me in to the Void for the self-mutilation."

"What do you want me to do about it, Adria?" he winced and shuddered. "I don't care what happened to you, you are a stranger, nothing more. It's a wonder your master didn't kill you for being a hostile, subservient little bitch. Unless you were whoring yourself to them as you are to all these people who are watching you act as if you were touched in the head."

She couldn't take it any longer. She had to shut him up, make him stop breathing, pierce him and let his hot lifeblood pour from the wounds that she was going to perpetrate on his body. She closed her eyes and chuckled with a shake of her head. She pulled the blade back and rested her hands on her thighs. A fluctuating exhale came from her as her eyes opened revealing a soulless emptiness behind her green eyes. He relaxed slightly under her weight.

"I'm sorry," she sulked.

"I should say so," he growled.

She was like lightning. Her small hand pinned his throat to the table causing him to spasmodically strain to breathe. Adria raised the etched blade over her head; everything in her told her to bring it down in his chest or in the soft tissue of his face. Maybe cut out his tongue for speaking to her like she was a piece of trash. She didn't need to be reminded of it at every turn. She was the one that could look in the mirror and barely recognize the woman staring at her.

"Adria!"

"Don't try and stop me, Fenris! He deserves to die, both of them do. If I can get one then the other will be easier," she sobbed. She bit her lower lip and sucked in a copious amount of air. Fenris came in to her peripheral and stopped beside her. She glanced up at him and drew the blade back further. "You'll never know. You'll never see. You opened my eyes to something I thought I could never have and I thought I had seen the light, but every bursting hint of it seems to drag me further in to the darkness. How many times are you willing to save me before even you have had enough?"

"I failed to save you this time," he murmured. "I should have told you no about this. I know you were trying to hide it from me for fear that I would overreact and I would have been justified in doing so, but you can't turn around and tell me that this is what you truly want to do. You aren't your uncle and you are _not _Danarius."

"Shut up! Don't tell me who I am!" she yelled.

"Look at me, Adria," he ordered sternly. She refused him. He couldn't tell her what to do. He wasn't going to stop her from doing this. She closed her eyes and brought the dagger down in to the table and let everything flow from her shaking fist in to the steel that had split the wood. She covered her face and wept. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled the quivering woman off of the terrified man. "It's okay," he cooed gently. "I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore. I will take care of you the way I should have from the beginning."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she grumbled, wiping her eyes dry.

* * *

><p>Fenris was hurt by the revelation that she couldn't trust him. He lifted her hand up and saw the dried red smears from her tears. Rotating her wrist to expose her palms he saw the countless slashes across her inner hands. They were deliberate and deep; it was apparent they weren't self-inflicted: the angles didn't match up. He tried to remember where she had received them, and yet had no recollection to ever seeing her hands bandaged at all. It was another reminder that was etched in to her that he had failed to protect her.<p>

"We should go," Neveren stated.

Adria finished lacing her top and as coolly as she could fixed her hair and walked with her head held high. His arm was around her, leading her out of the brothel. The Wardens were following behind them. The madam stepped in their path and glared at the woman at his side.

"You can't leave. You're under contract," she scowled.

Adria diverted her eyes to the floor and grimaced at the thought of continuing on with this charade. She glanced up at him and bit her inner cheek.

"I want this bitch arrested," her uncle bellowed, holding his injured forearm. "The stupid slave needs to learn some manners if you're going to have her working here Lusine."

Her eyes lit up at the sound of his voice. Neveren returned to head off the inevitable battery that the dolt deserved.

"Uncle, just leave it alone," the Warden insisted.

"No, no, I can solve both problems on my own, Cousin," Adria stated with a menacing lilt. She spun around and belted the apathetic man in the mouth. He crumpled to the ground, spitting blood on the floor. Adria shook her fist and glanced at the small abrasions on her knuckles. Fenris took her small fist in his hand and felt the small slivers of blood ooze in to his hand. "I quit," she snorted before walking out of the whorehouse.

Neveren remained behind to tend to the payment of the damages her cousin had caused. Anders walked alongside them, constantly looking down at the drowsy woman who had rested her head on the elf's shoulder. With all the adrenaline finally ebbing, the weariness had set in. The looks that the mage was giving to her were unsettling and it stirred a jealousy that he hadn't felt since Danarius had carried her around on his arm or showed that willful affection for her. The worst of it was the watching. He was made to watch without a word of protest. That was the extent of his power.

Adria came to a stop and grumbled about her exhaustion. The dawn was approaching fast and the kindling clouds were burning brightly making the day illuminate sharper than standing on the surface of the star. He was willing to carry her the rest of the way to the estate: that he had absconded from Danarius. But the sharp burrs in his armor would have marred her. He examined his gauntlets and snorted disapprovingly. If only Danarius had decided on something more functional than the spiky hide with sharp edges.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled meekly. His heart picked up at the delicate exchange. Even in the fading night light her eyes seemed to glow as if a fire was lit behind an emerald to show its many facets. She almost brought him to his knees without a word to make him stop himself. His knees began to buckle and he caught himself in time to see her stroll along humming a song of Tevinter.

When her gentle song came to an end, she stopped and spun around on her heels. The men had stopped and were watching her head down the stairs towards the Undercity.

"Why aren't you coming?" she questioned stunningly in the Imperium's tongue. A passing guard paused and examined her. It wasn't often she spoke Arcanum let alone in public.

"We're not going back to the sewers," he replied in the same fashion. "We're staying at Danarius' estate." He pointed up the stairs. Her curiosity got the better of her and as she marched up the steps cautiously she peeked around the stone column.

"What in the Maker's name would make you consider doing that?" she grumbled playfully.

"It's a roof over your head and plenty of space for the both of us." He paused and chuckled at her naiveté. "Unless you want to live in the dirt longer."

He started for the stairs and waited at the top for her. The look on her face was fearful. He knew her body language better than anyone else. The fumbling fingers and downcast eyes that she used to hide her wariness were just the subtle hints that he became accustomed to. For all her bullheaded defiance she was still a lost little girl with no sense of direction. Adria shuddered and followed hesitantly.

He opened the door for her and let her in. His gentlemanly streak ended as the Wardens began to enter. She inhaled letting the strange rank smell of demonic essences and the fading stench of their master. He could smell it just as strongly. It was like a phantasm that would haunt them as long as they stayed. Maybe time would dissipate and cleanse their abode long enough for them to settle. He watched her look around with an inquisitiveness that made his stoic exterior melt in to a smirk that would rarely be shown in anybody else's company but hers. She turned around at the top the staircase and placed her hands on the banister.

"I'm going to bed," she stated casually.

"I'll be up a minute."

Her face wriggled up at his statement. She began to unlace her top and muttered over her shoulder that it wasn't necessary, but she wouldn't stop him if he chose to follow. The rough translation would be: yes, now would be nice. Her own evasiveness was a shield for not giving a choice. He wanted to talk to her in private and excused himself from the Wardens. Anders crossed his arms with a nod. There was envy in the mages eyes that made Fenris' smile grow wider when he turned his back to them to accompany her to the master chamber.

"I'm sorry," she muttered as he closed the door behind him.

She pulled the laces out of her top and slid the binding from over her head. He watched her undress and eyed the numerous scars across her back. Angry silvery cicatrice clawed across her back from Danarius' beatings shimmered faintly at the sunlight filling the room. Her wavering voice kept repeating her apologies until the crack from her vocal chords gave the first hints of her breaking down. He hurried to her and in one swift motion brushed her hair aside and rested his head on her shoulder. He pulled his gauntlets off and snaked his hands across her waist. Feeling her snow white flesh with his bare hands had become a treat that he never took for granted.

"Don't apologize," he whispered. "Blame me as much as I do myself."

She turned on him with pained eyes. A thousand ideas ran behind those green eyes of hers that in the jumble of sensations he had he forcefully kissed her. He led her backwards until she was pinned up against the wall. Every time they came up for air she moaned a soft no in retaliation. He became more assertive in his endeavor. Each argumentative grunt she released was answered with a slide closer to the bed along the far wall. When she finally bumped the footboard he paused and shook his head.

"It's not right. Not after…" her voice trailed off as if lost in horrific memory.

"After Danarius, or Seheron, or the slaver you seduced to put him at a precariously large disadvantage or the fact you were…?"

"Before you finish that line of questioning, I want you to reflect on why I did those things." She slipped past him and planted herself on the bed, only to look up at him with large endearing puppy eyes. She had disgraceful disgust written all over her. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair and placed himself beside her. He propped up against the headboard and closed his eyes. He felt her lay beside him. Her cool barren skin touched his and the softest exhale signaled her departure from consciousness. His arm fell around her and pulled her closer a satisfied look on his face.

But doubt ate at him. He didn't know a thing about her. He couldn't recount a time where she divulged any information about her past to him. He scanned his markings and cursed them. If they hadn't been forced on him he might have remembered and all her actions would had made sense. Even though she told him she loved him, was it him that she was saying it to or the person that he once was? He could only relate to certain aspects of her personality, given they had grown on completely different worlds. He cherished her for all that she had done, but the how and why seemed to be more a character flaw due to her programming.

He feared the day that Danarius would come back for them and when it did, he might not be able to control her. For that one split second where she became unhinged he would sympathize for the magister, but in the end would not envy the retribution that his dearest Adria had kept locked away. Given certain circumstances he could see her turning on him. If one day every word and vow he'd ever given her became a stigma that caused her pain, he knew deep down that she would sunder the Veil in retaliation. He prayed it never came to that. Even the hint of another betrayal could irreparably damage her already fragile mind enough to kill him and herself in the process.

* * *

><p>Adria stirred from her slumber. Marked bleariness speckled her eyes with blurry light. She sat up with a grumpy groan. A sudden yawn escaped her as she looked around the room. In the exhaustive haze she peered up at the large window and in to the moonlit night. The room was eerily vacant; the only visitor was a dimly lit candle that was set on the floor. She swung her legs over the side and rested her head in her hands. Her head throbbed with the beat of her heart. Everything in her felt like it was a bad dream. It had to be, she couldn't believe that she would ever… <em>Stop it, Adria. It's done. <em>

"You're up," a familiar voice said from the direction of the door.

She looked up at the man and blinked multiple times before it sunk in that she knew this person in warden armor. She rubbed her eyes till they burned; still scolding herself for letting her imagination get away with her good sense.

"Anders?" she questioned. "Where's Fenris?"

"Good to see at least you kept your memory," he snorted. He leaned in the door and pointed to the foot of the bed. Adria followed his gesture to a dress laid over the footboard. "He's with Neveren at her place. He tried to wake you before he left, but it's like trying to bring forth the dead. She wanted me to tell you that you should meet them at her estate."

"Why didn't Fenris come back for me?" she asked sadly.

She stood up and pressed the gown to her body. It was Tevinter in make. A simple gown that Neveren had to have gotten in her travels or from the last time she had seen her. She slipped her skirt off and pulled the dress over her head. The cloth was stale and the deep red dress settled gently around her. She cinched the dress tight and stepped in to a pair of black velvety slippers that were beside the bed.

"They haven't been gone that long. I was getting ready to leave when you woke up."

Walking across the room to a small table she stared in to her reflection and frowned. It was still the same old Adria: unbound, desperate, and alone. All she saw was ugliness staring back at her in the faded looking glass. She fixed her hair with a barrette and began to leave. Anders stood aside and trailed her down the pitch black steps. Her thin leather soles scraped the stone work until the sudden burst of light from the outside seeped through the opened door. She nodded her appreciation and stepped through the threshold in to a sticky Kirkwall night.

The smells were leagues apart in comparison to the putrescent stink of Darktown. Flowers bloomed and the shrubbery all gave a burst of life to the masonry that made up Hightown. She was still paranoid about Danarius showing up, even with her escort there staring at her as they walked.

"What have you been doing since I last saw you?" she asked, trying to make conversation between the odd glances she was gaining and the near impenetrable silence.

"Things. You know: Warden-y things," he chirped. "It's all taint and darkspawn in my line of work. It's really rather boring." He stopped and turned her to face him. "I'm more concerned about you. Fenris said you can't do magic anymore. Is that true?"

Adria bit her lip and averted her eyes. It wasn't the most pressing topic that needed to be discussed to person who was basically a vacant stranger. What would it change regardless of location? She knew how this worked. She'd say something he'd respond with a demonstration, she'd pour blood and he'd feel bad about it.

"Does it matter?" she snapped in aggravation.

She shrugged him off and continued walking.

"It does, Adria. What did that son of a bitch do? Why would a mage do that to another?"

She glimpsed the baffled expression on his face and sighed. She rubbed her eyes and stopped. What did he know about the Imperium? This was far more common than he ever realized. It might have sounded dandy to be a free mage, but alas, many didn't even get that far. Most were like her and many died outright at the wishes of their masters for nothing at all.

"He's not a mage. He's a magister and I was nothing. It didn't matter that I was one of you people. The stupid bastard could do whatever he wanted and I had to accept it." She lifted her hand and a small glint of green energy surged from her opened palm. She felt her blood begin to bubble and searing pain that had nestled itself over every inch of her body made her begin to cough. Her eyes felt like they were going to explode and as he pleaded with her to stop, she choked on the emergent blood that was forcing itself from her throat. Her eyes dripped that all too familiar hot fluid and streaked her face. She spat the metallic tasting liquid on to the ground and pointed at it accusingly. "I can do magic," she growled. "That's what happens when I do. Fenris, doesn't want me using it because of that."

"I had no idea," he stammered. He looked her over for outward injuries and shuddered at the thought. "He took away your gift. Can you fix it?"

"I doubt it. I have no real knowledge as to the ritual that was done. I was branded with lyrium and Fenris' blood. Frankly, it doesn't matter." She continued on, wiping away the red blurriness from her eyes. The pressure was subsiding in her skull but her disorientation lingered.

"He used blood magic on you? That's abhorrent."

"Yes, the old adage of 'magic must serve man not rule over him' is a lie. Everything I was taught was a lie. You're wrong and so was my father. This isn't a gift. It doesn't serve anyone, it destroys them," she yelled.

"How can you say that? What proof do you have about it?" Anders argued.

They stopped in front of a large estate and stared at each other. Both mages were clashing in their opinions and neither one wanted to back down. Adria opened the door and walked inside. The front foyer was lit with wall sconces along both sides. The interior was warm and inviting. And while if the topic of conversation was mages, the time and place for the debate should have stopped at the closing of the door behind her; she kept walking towards the voices that were coming from the hall. She clasped her hands in front of her to keep from striking the mage for his naivete.

"Proof? You really want proof?" she huffed. "Seventeen years in the hands of a madman, numerous accounts of blood sacrifices, the fact that Fenris and I were both tortured by a mage for our rituals. I've had blood magic used on me countless times for my magical outburst. I watched Danarius execute a small boy who Fenris thinks is his and…" They walked in to the hall and found Neveren, Fenris, her uncle and a stranger standing in the room. She fixated on her former client. His arm was held in a sling. She stiffened at all the people staring at her and glared at them all with contempt. "Iocus est quaedam?"

"No," Fenris replied. "Donec elit deorsum, Adria. Etiam neque."

"Then what is it? Why is he here? And who in the Maker's name is that?" she growled.

"I know this is all a little sudden for you, but that man over there is your uncle." Neveren said with a point to the stranger. "The idiot from before is my uncle."

"I resent that," the man scowled.

"Shut up! Haven't you done enough already?" the warden snapped.

Fenris came up to her and led her by the hand to the stranger. He kept looking in to her magic torn eyes and shaking his head. He knew what she did, he always knew. There was no way to avoid it but to live in seclusion.

"Adria?" the stranger questioned.

"Aye?" she murmured.

"What are you doing here?" he inquired. She looked at him peculiarly. "You don't know who I am; do you girl?" She shook her head in the negative and glanced at Fenris. "You look so much like your mother when she was younger. How is she? It's been ages since I've heard from her."

"Gamlen is a nobleman here in Kirkwall. He didn't quite believe me when I told him you were here."

"Can you blame me? I'm surprised by the fact that any of my kin is around at all. You've only been here for a month or so, Neveren, with your entourage and Caladeir is here once a month anyways," Gamlen explained. Adria glowered at him. Is there really wasn't much she could inform him of that would be in the positive. "Come with me to the study and tell me everything." He took her hand and tucked it in to the crook of his elbow.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Fenris asked.

"She'll be alright. Nothing ill will come to pass with her," Gamlen reassured the elf with a smile.

"If you're going to spend time alone with her it's at least a sovereign and be careful, she likes it rough," Caladeir snorted.

She could hear the elf threaten him under his breath. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled.

"Don't worry," she cooed. "I'll be okay."

They walked in to the study, where Gamlen pulled up a large cushioned chair for her to sit in. He poured her a glass of wine and sat beside her. Her prim and properness showed little sign of cracking when she looked down in to the blush drink.

"So how is Leandra and Malcolm? The last time I'd heard from them was when the twins were born."

"They're dead. And have been since I was a child," she spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"What happened? You must tell me everything," Gamlen squeaked; his voice jumping to a higher octave.

Her awareness piqued at the mournful, stunned glances. It wasn't something that could be evaded with subtle innuendo, she wasn't taught that. It was a straight blunt assault at the truth. Mustering up every ounce of courage she had, Adria faced the man and tried to put the words in to coherent sentences. The longer the silence went, the more desperate the look in his eyes became.

He appeared to age ten years right before her eyes. She sipped her wine - to quell the overwhelming burning from shunned tears that drove tines of heartbroken duality in to her parched throat - and shuddered at recounting all the horrible moments of her life. The beginning was the worst, but cumulatively it didn't matter: she had been damned from the start. He deserved to know what had happened, but details were things that were static made the vivid recollections all the more painful.

Her only saving grace from the pain was to look away. What felt like failure, shame and forfeiture became a knowingness that virtuosity came at a far harsher price than most people were not willing to pay. If he really wanted to know, the path that would lead them to the now would be wrought with not a shred of happiness or hope. Even escaping Danarius was a diluted fantasy of what should have never been. It was all circumstances that were littered with the if's and why's that made little difference in the how and then.

"Alright, I'll start from the beginning."


	28. Chapter 28

It was illumination unparalleled by the brightest stars in the heavens. The way the fires clung to the sides of the masonry, blackening the white stone and swirling up the flue. There was something hypnotic about the gentle blurs in color that shimmied along the logs. Each flicker of flame ebbed from the glowing tangerine to the dimmest of blues. His eyes glazed from intoxication of the fine wine that Neveren had offered him. He slurped it down as if the thirst of a thousand oceans couldn't quench it. He had become so familiar with the piss poor ales and beers that would become a noxious vomitus from over-consumption.

He slumped deeper in to the armchair. The soft turtledove sobs snuck in from under the door from the study. Each gasp for air was another dagger and reminder. It was another cry that he'd heard from her. There were so many instances of her tears falling that he couldn't catch under the circumstances that their master would force upon her. Her attempts at satisfaction for Danarius often came at her bloodshed. How her tears were a deep red from him. She tried to explain it to him, but the context of injury should have healed after the many times the healer would come. She frowned upon his conjecture; the constant admonition and abuse had always torn fresh wounds. The secretions coated in their hemoglobin made her pained passion all the more desolate.

He felt their eyes on him. He fought the desire to acknowledge them, which made their attempts more desperate. He glanced around the room at the fine customary trappings of a nobleman's estate. It was refreshing compared to the estate that he and Adria were to reside in. He smirked slightly, yet tried to hide it from the wardens and the loud mouthed uncle that still mumbled his sickly comments about Adria.

Neveren offered him the bottle after downing his fourth glass as if it were water. The booze was used as a temporary bandage to cover his uncertain lamentations about the woman in the next room. He sipped the wine and with an ever parched throat resigned himself to answering the questioning looks he was receiving.

"How in the Maker's name did you get here?" Neveren started before he could finish the final drops in the bottle.

He looked in to the dark tinted glass decanter and stared. Blurry inebriated visions of his reflection cut through the refracted transparent bottle in splashes of deep purple. He swayed the bottle to and fro and heard the gentle slosh of liquid in it. The sound was tempting and before he could down the rest, his head swiveled in the blonde's direction.

"It's a long story," he muttered with slurred speech.

"We have time," Neveren replied, taking her place in the chair next to him.

"It was Adria's doing. If it wasn't for her, we'd be back in Minrathous now," he started with a sickening grumble and ache in his stomach.

* * *

><p><em>Alam, Seheron<em>

"We need to get off this island," Adria scowled as they walked along the docks in the dead of night.

The many bars and burlesque houses were full to bursting. Doors and windows were thrown open to aerate the stench of sweaty men and vomit. Laughing and drunken revelry spilled out in to the humid eve. She turned back to him and stopped. He had been listening to the conversations that were coming from some dockworkers near an open window.

"Where do you suggest?" he questioned without looking at her.

"Home," she replied softly.

"Back to Minrathous? If you wanted to go there you should have gone with Danarius," he grumbled.

Thin fingers grabbed his arm and gently squeezed. His ability to circumvent her staring eyes was felled by the tender dip she gave to have him look down at her. The sweet nibbling on her lip and pained expression sucked the wind from his lungs. He brushed her thick bangs from her face and weakly smiled. He knew exactly what she was saying. He felt horrible for implying that that was what she had wanted.

"My home is with you," she murmured. "I want to go back to Lothering to say good-bye. I didn't have a choice in the way I left the first time. I want to leave that place my way this time and have the ability to never look back."

"We could do that, if that is what you wish," he stated, taking her arm in his. "After that, what then?"

"Whatever you want to do is fine. As long as I'm with you: I'm safe."

They continued walking. Peculiar glances met the pair as they strolled along the waterfront to a nearby ship where cargo was being loaded. The captain was speaking with a longshoreman and checking things on a paper. The smarmy man stopped reading when the former slaves approached and grinned. The look on his face was unsettling to the elf, but Adria looked down to the ground submissively. Fenris told her to stay there: he would deal with the man. His tone was cold and reminded him of Danarius. His hair stood on end at the comparison. Regardless, he walked authoritatively to the captain and explained their situation. He was a bounty hunter sent to collect runaway property. His patron, Danarius, would like her returned to him without delay and unharmed.

They spoke briefly about the expenditure of two more mouths to feed, but when he took out the ring that had aided Danarius in finding them, the man's mouth nearly dropped to the floor. Fenris said that by any means necessary they were to return to Qarinas. The magister would replace it upon their return.

The ship's master pulled one of his crew aside and whispered to him. The stout young man nodded and hurried off. For several minutes they stood in silence. He kept looking over his shoulder to Adria; who he'd harshly commanded to his side. She refused with a wild shake of her head and folded her arms in protest. He didn't know what to do; the suspect looks he was getting from the captain had feared him. Just as he was about to rush over to her and threaten to thrash her for disobeying him; the sailor returned and handed him a heavy chain and manacle set.

"If she is a runaway slave, she will need to be put under confinement. I won't be having her trying to flee or cause a raucous on my ship," the captain warned.

The idea of chaining her up didn't sit well with him. The thought as a whole was something he never wanted to play a hand in. He couldn't believe that their escape would end up in her submission to him. It was her scariest nightmare come true. He hid them from her as he headed back.

"I have good news and bad news," he muttered, glancing quickly over his shoulder before resuming his attention on her. Her eyebrow perked with curiosity and awaited the information he had obtained. He cleared his throat nervously and continued. "Good news: I got us passage to Qarinus. I bartered passage with that bloody ring of Danarius'."

"And the bad news?" she asked.

It was at that point he pulled his hand out from behind his back exposing a chain and collar. She glared at the heavy manacle and matching chain before demanding he explain himself. The thought of having to see her wear that insipid harness ignited an instant hatred in him. She began to protest his idea when without warning she snatched it from him and closed the leash around her neck. He was baffled; instantly confused by the drastic measures she was allowing him to take. Her shaking hands fumbled with the lock, but the more she tried, the more she failed and in her frustration started to break down. He calmed her and closed it until the click from it securing could be heard. It was the most devastating sound he'd heard in months.

"I told him I was a bounty hunter and that you had gotten away from your master," he stammered enclosing her wrists in the shackles.

He looked up at her and this one scene could have been one that should have never been witnessed. There had only been three times since they'd known each other that she had been shackled like an animal. It was degrading and humiliating. And through it all, she feigned her familiar smile and looked away. It brought up horrible memories for her. He could see it in the way she kept dodging his glances.

"I understand," she said softly. She peered through her feathery bangs and shuddered.

"It won't be for long. Just until we get in to our quarters. Then I'll take it off," he assured her.

* * *

><p>"We spent a week on that ship. I had confined her to quarters just so she wouldn't have to wear her leash. Several crewmen had bartered to spend a night with her and I refused. I wasn't going to allow her to be used like that under my care," Fenris said.<p>

The dead silence that filled the room couldn't have been cut with a red hot knife. Even Adria's soft weeping had gone dead and as sobriety at the thought of having her as his slave for that week seemed an enticing idea, he never touched her. Not like that.

"We got out of the Imperium as fast as we could. We both knew that it would only be a matter of time before Danarius started his search of us again. With the ring out of our possession we thought it would give us the advantage we needed to put some distance between us and him," he continued.

"That was obviously a lie, I take it?" Nevern questioned. She began to pace in front of him as if she was interrogating him.

"It was. After we hit the mainland it seemed at every turn the slavers would be waiting," Fenris acknowledged. "Adria tried her best to fight them off when they managed to find us. It's still a mystery how they did. One we'll probably never figure out."

"So why do you deny her the ability to use her Maker given gifts?" Anders finally chimed in.

Fenris glared at him. He bit his tongue, knowing that the stupid mage was goading him.

"I never imposed a rule on her that she couldn't," he argued. "I'm not her master nor is she mine. You know full and well by now what happens when she does."

"Anders, just leave it for now," she snapped at the mage. "If you didn't want her to use her wily ways aboard ship, then why did you let her prostitute herself?"

"Have you ever really spoken with her? Her inclinations are her own. I found that out the hard way after Tantervale."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you'd do that!" Fenris yelled as they walked along a dirt path.<p>

The sun had begun to set and the further south they headed, the temperature dipped lower at night. He gripped her tightly by the hand and led her along the winding trail. He couldn't stand to look at her. Not with what she had allowed to happen to herself. He was helpless to stop it and grateful in a sick sense that she had given in to such a loathsome deed. If she hadn't done it when she had they would have been out of time since they had already sent word to their master of their capture.

"We needed to get out of there. I didn't see you pleading your case all that well," she snapped back. She pulled her hand from his and stopped dead. "Besides he didn't seem all that interested in you anyways."

He spun around and got in her face. She stared in to him; refusing to back down from his threatening posture. The smug scowl on her face forced him to make a decision. He wanted to hit her for doing it. Making him watch what she had done right in front of him. Make him listen to her being trespassed upon with complete disregard for his feelings. He was angry at himself more than she but the more she stared up at him with deep sopped hair from their captor's blood sticking chunky locks to her face, he understood it wasn't her fault.

"I never wanted you to resort to that," he stuttered.

"I'm sorry. Alright? Is that what you want to hear? I screwed up again. Adria is the foolish girl who's good for only one thing," she shrieked with a harsh shove. He staggered back and went to reach out for her. "If I hadn't we'd be in Danarius' hands again. I gave you the chance to flee and you refused to on account of a stupid whore!"

His arms fell away as she stormed past him. The trees began to sway as a hard breeze came over the mountains and down in to the valley. Petrichor tainted wind heeded a heavy warning to him. A storm was coming and from the rapidness that the clouds traversed the skies it was going to be a long night trudging along in the darkness. He hurried after her around the bend and found her standing completely still in the middle of the road. He spun her around forcefully and grabbed her shoulders. Speckles of dried blood dotted her bare flesh. He rubbed them away with his thumb and locked eyes with her.

"You're not a whore." His gauntleted tips dug in to her shoulder blades and felt the first drops of rain begin to hit his head. "People will do things they don't want to for the survival of themselves or others. I can't take back what happened, regardless of how willing or not you were." Her head drooped to conceal the shame she'd been holding on to since they'd gotten away.

"I love you, Fenris. I'm tired of running all the time. From Danarius and these damn slavers all the way up to you."

"Me? Why would you run from me?" he questioned.

"All I see is you and what you deserve is far better than what I can give," she replied.

The water pouring over their heads ran red and spilled to the ground amongst the brown puddles around their feet. An icy wind hit her back and she jumped towards him. He chuckled to himself when she ran in to him and shivered. She was shrinking further as if she was going to burrow in to his torso for warmth. He lifted her chin with his finger at the sweet innocence she was emitting and kissed her gently. The chattering of teeth ended along with the freeze she'd put in place since Seheron.

"I will make it up to you," he murmured. "I owe you far more than you think."

* * *

><p>"So she slept with a slaver to save your ass?" Neveren growled. "Unbelievable." She threw her hands up in anguish and finished off the last of her wine.<p>

"She… did," he replied uncomfortably. He shifted in his seat and glanced at the warden. "She seduced them-"

"Wait," Anders interrupted. "_Them_?"

"She managed to get the key from the guard while she was-."

Neveren stopped him with a wave of her hand. She didn't need the details about what she had to do to get them free. From the look on her face, she was disgusted. Not at Adria, but at him for not doing a little sacrificing of his own for the sake of her. He didn't like it either, but had come to accept it.

"So are you still sleeping with her?" Anders questioned with piercing eyes.

"I don't think that's any of our business. From the way they react to each other I'm sure they have at least a few times," Neveren replied before Fenris could. He shrugged evasively at the topic and downed the last bit of warm wine. "So explain this magic thing to me."

"I bleed," Adria stated from behind them.

Fenris nearly jumped out of the chair at the sound of her voice. He turned and saw her leaning in the doorway of the study, swirling her glass of wine. She cocked her head and started toward the elf only to place herself at his feet. She rested her head on his knee and sighed.

"I know that, Adria," Anders spat angrily.

"So then why ask at all? If you knew the obvious then it was a stupid question. Here's the more obscure fact about this two fold deal," she paused for another sip of wine and set her head back down. Fenris combed her hair with his fingers and waited for her to continue. "Remember that little tidbit I gave you about Fenris' blood?" She didn't bother looking at the mage who had nodded without a word. "If he gets hurt; so do I. It's not an example I care to show you all, but that's that. Two slaves, polar opposites what happens to one the other gets. Now if…" She stuck her finger in the pink wine and sucked it dry. "I was to get hurt, nothing happens to him. The bleeding and agonizing pain is an after effect of the use of my own will. That doesn't mean I can't fight. It just makes it more difficult to."

"I see," Neveren murmured, deep in thought about Adria's admission. "We might be able to work around that at some point. Let me discuss it with Anders and Alistair and I'll see what we can do to help you."

Adria looked up at him with sleepy eyes and yawned. Fenris nodded in agreement and helped her to her feet. He hadn't slept in two days and the claws of exhaustion were tearing at him vigorously. Gamlen came in to the room and nervously told her to be careful and that he'd like to speak with her soon; even though words sounded forced with uncomfortable tones of mourning sewn through it. She nodded politely and headed for the door.

"Can I speak with you, Fenris, for a minute longer? In private, perhaps?" Neveren asked.

They looked at each other briefly only for her to nod that she'd be alright and see him at home. He didn't want her to walk the streets at night. It wasn't safe out there and she would be mildly defenseless against the thugs that would see her as an easy target.

"Just stay right here. I'll be right back," he assured her.

Neveren led him in to the study and quickly shut the door behind her.

"Do you know anything about her past?" she questioned without turning around.

"It's not something she's ever brought up," he replied with a shrug.

"You should speak to her about it some time. Gently, of course. It might help you understand why she takes failure and betrayal from the people she's come to trust so personally. Why she was willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of you," the warden growled. "I know that look in her eye when you turn away from her. That lost scared girl without a friend in the world but you. She's come to rely on you so much that if you ever hurt her: I will track you down and kill you myself."

"Don't threaten me, mage," he snapped back.

"You have no idea how many times I've heard that," she scoffed with a wave of the hand. "Yet, they didn't see the error of their ways and were punished accordingly. If I even get the slightest hint she feels like she failed you because of your choices, that lingering pain I know you've noticed when she looks up at you isn't because of years of torture. It's because she watched her family die and played a part in their demise under duress. She feels like she failed them."

"I wouldn't hurt her," Fenris insisted, trying not to raise his voice so that Adria would overhear.

"I've just told you one of the biggest mysteries to her and you say nothing about it?"

"What do you want me to say, Neveren? Do you want me to rush out of here and probe her for information about something so traumatizing that she probably wishes to forget?"

"No, I'm sure she's envious of you that she wasn't given that option. For her sake, please Fenris, after tonight's talk I know you are the only one she can rely on. Anders and I won't always be here because of the Wardens and Gamlen only spends a couple months a year here," her voice grew softer as if begging him to heed her words with careful consideration.

"I don't need to be told the obvious. I do understand what you are telling me, but I've known her longer than either of you combined. She's strong, wild, and while that meek streak she has is also there, I know she can handle just about anything life throws at her."

The Warden opened the door with a frown but wouldn't let him pass. She stopped him short of breaking the threshold with a press to the chest.

"If you really think about her that way, then I hope there never comes a time when you are wrong," she said with a shake of her head. "If you betray her trust, you'll probably never get it back. If you really want to protect her from all the bad in the world and not whoring herself out because you won't provide for her then I have a task that'll prove your worth to both myself and her."

"What is it?"

"Speak to Harlan tomorrow about paying off her contract. Since you are her significant other it falls to you. It'll keep the Coterie out of her hair and you'll get a small payment but the majority of the work is going to pay it off," Neveren explained coldly.

"Understood."

With his acknowledgement she stepped aside and followed him to the foyer. What he saw made the stern warden break out in to insane chuckling. He thought it was heartwarming. Adria was curled up in the tiniest of balls on the bench. She almost seemed to disappear in to her gown, but when she whimpered softly in her all too familiar nightmares, he hurried to her side and soothed her till she was quiet. He didn't want to wake her up just to walk home and while his own body hungered for the same attention he glanced at his armor and back to the slumbering princess and scowled. Again he cursed Danarius for giving him such dangerous armor and wished that for just one second he could carry her home without inflicting unwanted injuries.

"Do you want me to get Anders or Alistair to help you carry her?" Neveren asked when she noticed his distress. "Or do you both want to stay here tonight? There's plenty of room for us and you two can share if that's what you want."

"Would Gamlen have a problem with it?" he queried, never taking his eyes off of his sleeping beauty.

"I don't think so," she said with a sigh. "There's a room at the top of the stairs on the left."

He had to give it a shot at least once to heft her tiny frame in to his cradling arms just to place her in bed and squirrel his way under the covers beside her. As deftly as his pokey armor would allow, he lifted her up and began to walk towards the stairs. He held his breath, savoring the moment and dreading the end as he walked up to the second floor. Neveren was waiting with the door open and as he walked in to the large room, she smiled and wished him a good evening before closing the door; leaving him alone with her.

He placed her on the bed and began to unlace the bindings of her gown. She stirred when he reached the top and he froze.

"Don't wake up, love. Don't wake up," he pleaded with nary a sound escaping him.

He slid her feet from her slippers and placed them beside the bed. When it was his turn to disrobe and settle in for the night he continued to watch her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, the slow and even throb from her carotid arteries, even the soft whistle of her breath made him take pause and admire her like so many nights before. Fenris pulled the blankets up over him and just listened to her sleep. It was a beautiful nocturne composed by his affection. She was his cross to bear and he carried it with no remorse. He pressed his lips to hers and she recoiled abruptly as if he had startled her.

"I'm sorry. It's alright," he spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Am I ever going to keep you?" she whispered incoherently.

"Properly? Eventually. When I can provide for you your every waking desire," he replied.

"Oh," she breathed before sliding closer to him. "I love you."

His breath caught in his lungs at the gentleness of her somniliquy. Her effervescent smell managed to crush his stony heart and he broke down. In silence and at the point of near desperation he felt the dampness well up in his eyes. He rubbed his eye and saw the small droplet glistening in the waning moonlight. She had finally done it. She brought him to his knees just by being there. An overwhelming dread filled him till he could stand it no longer.

_How am I ever going to provide for you properly when I can't even tell you how much I love you?_


	29. Chapter 29

_Six months later…_

She sat in Anders' clinic, quietly swinging her crossed ankles back and forth as he spoke with one of his patients. Six weeks, four days and twelve hours had come and gone since she'd last seen Fenris. Working as an enforcer to pay off her exorbitant debt came with long stints hunting for other debtors and special assignments that usually involved protecting goods en route to some clandestine location. For the most part, he was home with her and working with the Wardens on small tasks, while she remained in Kirkwall in sheltered seclusion, only to leave and visit Varric at the Hanged Man or speak with Isabela who Neveren had known from her time in Denerim.

When the mage had finished his private discussion with the man, Anders hung his head and approached the bored woman. She stiffened at the distressed look on his face. When she slid off the crate and began to meet him halfway, he stopped her and grumbled under his breath.

"You seem troubled," she murmured.

"There's something I need to tell you. Or ask of you," he muttered.

"What is it?" Adria asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We are leaving on an expedition in to the Deep Roads and I need someone to mind the clinic while I'm gone."

"And you want me to mind it for you?"

"Exactly," he replied.

"Okay?" She looked around the dirt covered flooring and rolled her eyes nervously.

"I know you're apprehensive about healing people but it should be alright. Most come in for tonics and the like. The occasional pregnant woman will be ready to deliver. You have experience with such a thing?"

"More than I'd like to admit," she snorted. She walked past him with a frown and leaned against a pillar in thought. "How long is this trip supposed to be?"

"A couple of weeks, not all that long," he answered with a shrug. "Neveren's got it on good authority to end her investigation from the First Warden if she doesn't find what she's looking for."

"I'll be fine. I've got Varric and Isabela to keep me company," Adria chirped. "Plus, I could use the break from that training Cousin has me doing."

"How is that going, perchance?"

"Painful," she muttered. "She's quite the slave driver."

Anders chuckled with a satisfactory nod and cleared his throat when the Warden-Commander entered the clinic. Adria continued her nearly unheard of giggle until Neveren quieted her with a sharp glare.

"Are you ready?" she snapped.

"Never, but I'll go regardless," he answered with a smug grin.

Adria gave him a quick hug and swept away the wrinkles in her gown anxiously. While the clashes they had over mages, templars and such still were constantly brought up in heated arguments, the mutual respect they had was implacable. She knew of his deep seated longing that he had for her even if it was preposterous to think of. She belonged to someone else and as long as he understood and respected that, then things had a chance of being copacetic.

"Stay safe out there," she told the pair before they left her to her own devices.

She walked to the railing that held her back from falling in to the contaminated waters below. Orange hues swirled across the sky and the rank overtures of raw sewage couldn't be cleansed by the salt water smells of the sea. It was balmy and in her dark gown she prayed it would rain before she melted in to an unrecognizable puddle.

"Do you plan on staying down here till they get back?" Varric asked from behind her.

"Nope," she chortled. "I was planning on closing up shop for the night and heading to the Hanged Man for a pint or so."

"Now that's a plan I can drink to," the dwarf chuckled.

Adria locked the doors and slipped the key in to her pouch. Muttering all the while to about the carelessness that Anders had set himself up for in the event templars came. Varric stopped her and pointed to the heavy door beside him with a smirk.

"It leads to the cellar of Gamlen's estate. If he ever needs it he can get away before the templar's get here. Or now in this case: you."

"Well will wonders never cease," she snapped. "Let's hope it never comes to that."

* * *

><p>"How much longer do we have to wait?" Lilley grumbled as she leaned against her shield.<p>

"It'll take as long as it takes," Fenris muttered in annoyance. He looked in to the night sky and traced the constellations that Adria had taught him. He missed her and with each passing day that passed pangs of loneliness ate at him a bit further. "Another birthday missed."

"At least she'll have one. If you hadn't gone to Harlan when you did she wouldn't be having any more," Lilley stated with a huff.

"True. She has a way of stirring up trouble unnecessarily," he smirked.

"I think she enjoys it." She paused to tuck her hair behind her ear. "You did hear that the Wardens were leaving Kirkwall for a while."

Fenris stiffened and shuddered at the possibility of Adria being left alone without supervision. The starry-eyed girl with strange flights of fancy and copious amounts of traumatizing fears being a solitary person. Even if the room was filled to capacity, she would be the only one there and while she had acclimated to her dealings with the outside world, that naïve sense of spirit had held her back. She was a child amongst a sea of men that would have taken great pleasure in using her to their advantage. He had hoped to get back before they had left, but things had come up and the job was taking longer than expected.

"She'll be fine. The dwarf and Isabela are there to watch over her," he replied with a shrug.

"I wouldn't trust that cow for anything," Lilley warned.

"I don't. I trust Adria and that's about it. Even if she can be a troublemaker, she's…" he thought to himself about the proper descriptor for her. "The only person I have left."

* * *

><p>"So little Adria… you and Fenris?" Isabela purred playfully.<p>

"What about us?" she swiveled her head in the pirate's direction.

Alcohol infused auras filled her eyes and gave the bronzed skin woman an unnaturally white glow. The more she blinked the blurrier her vision became.

"You two are close?" she questioned.

"I've known him my whole life," Adria replied with a slur to her words. "We've seen and done things that we cannot undo and as tragic as that may sound, I don't regret any of it." She chugged the vile spume down and slammed the mug on to the table jostling all the little trinkets in to a haphazard dance. "It's been so long since I've had someone I can truly rely on and with Danarius out of the way – for now at least - and years of condition on both his and Hadriana's part, Fenris will one day have to face the inevitable."

"Which is?" Varric asked.

"I can't keep relying on him to save me and I'll have to do it myself. He's not my slave and the more I realize that what was once unattainable I can now have- it makes it harder to face my past and the things I've allowed to happen," she grumbled. She rubbed the burning from her eyes and sat up. "The way he looks at me sometimes causes more pain than when he walks out the door and disappears for days or weeks at a time." She folded her arms across her chest and let her head fall forward. "It's almost as if he needs me more than I need him. Yet every time I tell him that I love him I get the lost stares and averted glances. What if one day he decides that he doesn't need me anymore?"

"What's so wrong about your past that you can't tell him? You're not so much a stranger than an enigma. Maker, you've got us all confused about who you are. Behind that meekness is a terror that shouldn't be messed with. Fenris, on the other hand, has no memory at all about before he was forced in to his position," Varric stated.

"Funnily enough, he wasn't forced in to anything." She closed her eyes and sunk lower in to the wooden chair. She leaned it back on its hind legs and chuckled at the audacity of the strange little omission she'd rarely thought about until then. "He wanted them. I watched him earn them and in the end I lost my brother to his blade. Even he doesn't remember that and I wish not to have to relive that part of my life again. He isn't what he says he is, the name isn't even really his."

"So if you've both been in captivity so long what really is your name?" Varric questioned inquisitively.

* * *

><p>The coursing rush of waves crashing along the sheer cliffs of the Wounded Coast heralded the foamy spray on to the land above. Three men emerged from inside the small shack where the Coterie was dealing the Carta thugs. Lilley and Fenris had waited patiently for hours for the exchange to be made and awaited the completion of the transaction just so they could make it back to Kirkwall in time for the sun to come up.<p>

"Sorry, it's going to take longer," one of the couriers stated with an irked expression. "Seems we have a problem with the shipment and the Carta isn't being very forthcoming with their end of the bargain."

"What do you want us to do?" Fenris asked.

"Nothing yet. Just stay here while we discuss what the plan is," a second courier explained hurriedly.

"This was a waste of time," Lilley grumbled.

"It's not going to end well for this batch. I already know – all too well – that the Coterie doesn't take kindly on being jerked around," Fenris muttered. "Why is it taking so long for this one thing to get finished?"

"Beats me," she said with a shrug. "I could use a long bath once I get home. What about you?"

Fenris smirked and adjusted his blade. There were so many things he wanted to do, all involving that one person who had a tendency to send his head spinning with her coy glances and soft spoken words. She got his blood flowing to extremities that took notice with her heated pheromones long before his brain acknowledged the oncoming storm of primal testosterone taking effect.

"I'm going to crawl in to bed and sleep," he sheepishly evaded.

"Sleep? Right," Lilley chortled, seeing right through his ploy.

"Can we change the subject?" he growled uneasily.

"Fine, fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing. Let's just wait and see what they have in store for us and be done with it."

* * *

><p>The name. Her name. It was always Adria. Or mistress. The things she refused to forget and now that she forced herself to face her demons at the bottom of a mug of festering liquids had unblocked hidden hatred and anger. The cork was unsealed and twenty years of lingering foulness seemed to spew forth in a blockage of anything before. She never wanted to forget who she was from before. The things that Danarius couldn't take away were now gone.<p>

"My name?" she questioned to herself. "I…" She strained, fought and the more her memory resisted, the more her frustration seemed to rear its ugly head in sputtering and staggered loops of the dwarf's question. Names and places were as clear as the day she'd heard them, but when it came to who she was, it was wiped away by years of nothingness and reprogramming. "Slaves don't have names. Not fully. They don't have anything but the whims of their masters and are only allowed to have what their master wills." She shuddered when the words came tumbling out of her mouth. In her rushed attempt to conceal her flustered magister speak she glanced at the Isabela and broke. "I don't know."

"It's alright. Calm down," the buxom woman uttered as Adria began to cry. "You'll remember."

"Will I?" Adria screamed, jumping from her chair, sending it to the floor with a clatter. "What do you care what I remember? You're only interested in the one thing I have that you want."

"It's nothing like that," Isabela stammered.

"Adria, she's not the enemy," Varric stated as calmly as he could.

"How do I know who is the enemy and who is not? She comes to this shithole with a world of trouble, begs Neveren to help her with her problems. Eye fucks the elf in front of me and acts like it's nothing and then expects me to believe she's completely innocent in whatever the Qunari have planned. Its bullshit, Varric and you know it," Adria snarled before slamming her fist to the table in a fit of rage.

"That's the alcohol talking," Isabela smirked. "It's alright, Varric, let her go. That liquid courage will eventually run out."

"It's not liquid courage! I'm a cynic you stupid whore!" she growled with spiteful leer.

"Great, now she goes ahead and speaks like all the others thinking I'm stupid," the pirate jabbed.

"Isabela, just let her calm down. She's got a lot going on right now."

"I'm fine. Just…" She sighed and twisted her hair around her finger. "I'm going back to the clinic to sleep this off." She turned to leave and glanced over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Isabela."

"Don't worry about it, kiddo," she said with a smile. "Everything will be alright just you wait."

"Happy birthday, Adria," Varric remarked. "I know you wanted Elf to be here for it. That's why he told me before he left in case he didn't get back in time."

* * *

><p><em>Two weeks later…<em>

The noon day heat had sapped away his remaining energy as he walked down the dark tunnel in to the pits of the Undercity. He carried dread with him as his debilitated body stood inside the egress to the clinic. He shook his wounded hand that harbored a deep gash across his palm. The sutures that prodded his bare flesh were sewn with little care after taking out a group of rival smugglers on the way back to the city.

"Take this," Adria murmured softly handing a bottle of green ointment to a well-dressed man. She adjusted the bandage around her eyes and smiled pleasantly. Her hand was wrapped in cloth and tied delicately to stem blood from seeping on to her patients.

"And if the itching should persist?" he asked. A faint blush of embarrassment snuck across the man's face.

Fenris watched the devious smirk of a witty retort coming to Adria's lips.

"Well, Seneschal, I'd say to stay away from people who smell of stale sweat, piss poor whiskey, desperation, and sea water, but that's not the answer you're looking for. Maybe staying away from Isabela…" She stifled her chuckling and shook her head. She patted the man on the shoulder and apologized for being snide and lacking the bed side manner he was due. "If it comes back, we'll try something different. Just follow the directions in this note to the letter and check back with me in a week or so."

The Seneschal thanked her and scurried away to hide his small ampule of medicine. Adria groaned and removed her bandages and rubbed her weary eyes. Blood flowed down her arm and dripped from her elbow to the ground in front of her. He frowned at her discomfort and knew that being the Darktown healer while Anders was away would be more physically taxing than was first perceived. It was that blasted Warden mage who had asked – strangely enough as it was – to allow her to take his place temporarily.

Why they thought they needed his permission to allow her to do anything seemed like a waste of useful energy and time and should have gone directly to her. Maybe they were worried he would reject the idea on account of her use of magic and the possibility that she would come to some harm when the templars came looking for apostates. They had also tried to warn him of the imminent danger she faced while in Kirkwall. He accepted their plan of taking her under her wing to teach her to harness her magic to fight. Even if it was a lackadaisical sort of fighting she'd be attempting. He saw her first hand attempt to hold him off and with that frail little body of hers she wouldn't be able to hold off a whole group of marauders or mercs the same way he could. But it was something to keep her busy and when her day would be done fiddling with the Wardens, she'd limp home to him where he'd be waiting with a bottle of wine and a warm bed to take her place in beside him.

"Can't go in there?" Varric asked with a jab of the elbow. "Still get nervous around her?"

"No. That's not it," Fenris muttered resting against the outside wall. "Maybe it is. I don't know."

"After everything you two have been through you still get all jumpy in her presence? I don't know whether to think that's sweet or really… really pathetic," the dwarf smirked. He stuck his head in the door and shook his head sadly. "I see she's been attending to more critical issues today. It's been pretty busy as of late."

"You would know?" the elf questioned, looking down at his stalky friend.

"Of course I would. Who do you think walks her home at night and keeps her company. After her blow up with Isabela on her birthday I've tried to keep the two of them apart. She's really sensitive to certain topics involving you and her."

"She got in to a fight with Isabela? I would have almost paid to see that," Fenris shook his head and watched her cough and spit over the side in to the putrid green waters below.

"It didn't go that far, but she's got a mean streak unlike anything I've ever seen. You should be wary of it. 'Cause I sure as shit wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of her," Varric warned.

"Do you realize I watched her slit a man's throat for saying the wrong thing to her? It was something trivial and wouldn't have bothered her under any other circumstances, but the look in her eye when she killed him was unlike anything I'd ever seen in her. She was a completely different person: cold, indifferent, but not full of bloodlust," he reminisced with a furrowed brow. "I never wanted her to have to go that far. She doesn't need to submit to the violence like I have. There are few places I know she fears to tread: looking at herself in the mirror and knowing all the horrible things that have been done to her, remembering how she came to be this submissive and dismissed woman who fears that no one will love her and I think the worst thing she carries is that there will be a time when I won't need her around."

"Ya know, she said the same thing."

"Spend enough time with a person and you learn their darkest fears and desires without them ever being expressed. I've had years with her and she has had far more with me than I can remember."

"So quit standing around and add more time with her," Varric snapped.

"That's the thing, I have to leave again shortly and I don't know whether it's best to just leave her alone and leave again or to see her light up and take that little bit with me," Fenris muttered.

"Well, you're wasting time just watching her. If I was you I'd go for it and let the doubt eat at you later."

* * *

><p>Her eyes were on fire as she took off her blindfold and threw it on the cot beside her. Sweat dripped down her pale face smearing her delicately applied make up. She coughed violently in to her hand and scowled at the spattering of blood and mucus that had lodged in to her weary hands. Fanning away as much of the heat she could she closed her eyes and leaned over the wrought iron railing.<p>

"So, this is what you do all day now?" Fenris asked.

"Not much else to do as of this minute, but wait and be bored," she replied without looking at him. She fidgeted with her bandage around her hand and smirked. "How long are you staying this time?" He wrapped his arms around her and held her swathed hand up for him to look at. "That happened at the most inopportune time."

"I'm sorry." He showed her his own healing injury on the same hand and she grabbed it stunned.

"Who did this?"

She pulled him to a nearby table and ordered him to sit on it. She ran to a nearby rack and combed through bottles of different astringents and potions.

"It's nothing, Adria. Calm down," he said trying to reassure her.

"Shut up," she growled forcefully. She took a razor and cut the stitches away. She heard him wince as each thread slid through his layers of skin. She didn't care about the pain she was putting him in; the angry red streaks of a nearing infection were more a problem than the stoic elf trying to hide his discomfort. "Hold still." She uncorked a vial of sour smelling liquid with her teeth and poured it all over his hand. It bubbled with strange red foam that continued to ooze for several minutes. She looked up at him and meekly smiled. "So again, I ask: how long are you here for?"

He looked at the clinic door and back at the puss laced froth that was draining from the raw slash. She patted it dry gently and made sure the debridement was thorough and complete. She clasped her hands around his and murmured a small heal incantation.

"What are you doing?" he yelped angrily.

"Making sure this heals properly," Adria explained through clenched teeth.

She felt her blood boil. The snap, crackle, pop at the base of her skull and the overwhelming urge to drown in her own lifeblood begged her to stop in near unison with Fenris' pleas. She continued on, refusing to let the agonizing ache take control. He pulled his hand from hers and in near blindness she grabbed for her blindfold.

"Damn it! Are you trying to kill yourself?" he yelled and left her side.

He grumbled in Arcanum, swearing up and down that he wasn't willing to be the one she saved at the cost of her life. He couldn't live with that thought constantly haunting him. If anyone was to die for the other it should have been him. Not her, not his trusted ally and beloved. Her head cocked at the last part and yet she remained unmoved by the heated words he spewed in distress.

He came back and wiped the blood from her face and dabbed the corners of her mouth of the hot sanguine fluid that dripped down her chin. His steel tips touched her lips, sweet metal and blood mixed with saliva in a concoction of equally distracting flavors and smells. He placed her bandage around her head and felt his hand trace the contours of her body as she sat with her knees under her. His breath hit her cheek as he rested his head on her shoulder. Small brushes from his lips in the crook of her neck sent her breathing in to an erratic display of yearning.

"Stay with me," she begged. Her voice cracked in unbearable anguish as he pulled her closer to him.

"I can't," he whispered in her ear. She felt the bindings saturate and start to seep from under her blindfold. She was crushed, shattered beyond all reasoning. Why here? Why now? This was no different from any other time he'd had to go off and do things for the Coterie or the Wardens. "Don't cry," he muttered as he wiped away the falling tears. "It kills me to see you cry."

He pressed his lips to hers and even in those deep penetrating heartfelt interactions they shared when they were alone everything would freeze but for a few brief moments where oxygen would disappear and the only way to know you were breathing was from the other person. It was an unabashed contentment and voluminous sense of entitlement that each person had for the other. Slave or master, banisher and overseer it didn't matter. Each had carved their markings on the other. It was a branding that couldn't be replaced or denied. All she remembered in those fleeting times of complete distraction and everything worth doing was reborn and it all felt right until the end would come letting loose another absentminded attempt to hold on for just a second longer.

"I'll see you soon?" she queried between evenly forceful embraces and downright experimental encroachments.

"Sooner than you think," he uttered.

"Promise?" she moaned.

"Always."

He helped her to her feet and took her again in his arms. He knew him all too well. He didn't want to have to leave her again as much as she refused to let him stay gone for so long. He pulled away letting the final touches come from the pointy tips of armored hand. She clasped her hands in front of her and sniffled until his smell had faded in to the afterglow of contentment. She was alone again and after several minutes of standing in an empty clinic with nary a soul to attend to. The violation of silence and loneliness sunk in.

Adria stumbled around, cleaning up the spoiled rags and empty bottles and threw them in a crate to be disposed of. She took her place on top of a crate and knew that eventually some other poor sap would come in with an itch or a rash that needed to be attended to. She couldn't understand how Anders could tolerate such tedium from stupid people. It was a filthy job and while she retained a small modicum of pleasure from aiding some of them; most deserved a swift boot to the head.

"Are you Adria?" a man asked. "The healer?"

"Why do you ask?" she questioned. "Is there something you need from me?"

"We need you to come with us," another man responded.

"What for?" she queried, hopping off the box and removing her blindfold. She blinked several times until her sight adjusted in to what would now be the norm for her. A blurry haze that had no end but fuzzy speckles and overbearing dimness. She rubbed her eyes and saw that three armored men were surrounding her. She knew it all too well. The templars had come trolling for this week's batch of apostates and now it was her turn. She sighed and said that she'd come without a fight. They clapped her in irons and shoved her towards the door. "Before we leave, could you put my blindfold on, my eyes can't handle the bright light yet."

She waited as a red headed templar came back with the blood soaked rag and gently put it around her. She expressed her gratitude and the instant sinking feeling of knowing what it felt like to now be a guest of the Gallows seemed to destroy her nonchalant snarkiness about her peril. She knew Meredith and heard the rumors of what the templars did to those they were supposed to protect. She would be another number, statistic or notch in the belt of some bastard guardsman who abused his power over his charges.

"Thank you, Templar," she grumbled as they walked through Darktown.

"It's Thrask," he remarked politely.

_Doesn't matter who you are. I'm damned anyways. Help me, Fenris! They're taking me away and I may never see you again. You don't even know I'm gone and by the time you do… it may be too late._


	30. Chapter 30

_Don't rock the boat._

It was a common sentiment she learned rather early from her time with Danarius. It was a rule; one she often broke for her indifference towards her former master. The mind games they played with each other were a chess game of words and actions. Her manipulations in provocative allure to his power and pride were weapons that they both wielded when it came to their clashes in faith. She frequently lost her battles; yet still managed to keep most of the infighting between her and him for the sake of Fenris.

"Fenris," she muttered.

She shook her head at the thought of the elf coming home to an empty estate and realizing that she wasn't there. Once he found out she had been hauled off to the Circle: how would he respond? She knew through his many affirmations about mages that she would be no different to be there, given that she was a mage herself. Through all the whole-hearted desires and glances, there was still an overwhelming disgust she saw when he looked at her. His fears were constantly thrown in to his face when she was near: a mage, freely living; a reminder of his forgotten past and the shackle that still bound him to Danarius.

Adria looked down at her own chained irons and shook them. She pulled at them and listened to the jingle until Ser Thrask placed his hand on hers. She froze. An inability to hold back the bottled up fears she had, came out in a glare that even she thought was uncalled for. She feigned her usual smile and hoped that the grieved man would be kind to her; unlike many of the others she had serviced during her time at the Rose. No sick fantasies or atrocities. No defilement that registered in many of the templars' mind as a right for protecting the populace.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking off in the direction of the Gallows. "This is for your protection from society as much as it is theirs."

"Right." The word was drawn out and dripped of smoldering sarcasm. It was a trait she had picked up from Fenris and while it served them both well, the templar knew she was using her subtle wit to lash at him. "It was fun while it lasted."

"You make it sound like this is something new for you. You've had a relatively carefree life," Thrask interjected between her brooding and the continued jingle of her chains.

"You don't know the half of it. But I'll let you believe that if it'll help you sleep at night," she grumbled.

She shifted her weight and looked at the foreboding prison that was to be her new home. Several templars patrolled the docks and mages walked amongst them in the courtyard beyond. Her shoulders slumped the closer they got to the pier. Her head throbbed and as she looked back at the shrinking city of Kirkwall she thought of all the things she would miss: Fenris snuggled up close to her at night, her arguments with Anders on mage freedom, Neveren teasing her for her strange demure properness when she wasn't training to her cutthroat cheating when she was sparring with Alistair in Gamlen's garden. Even the pain of that seemed more welcoming than the realization that everything that every one of them had tried to do for her would have been for nothing.

"Ser Thrask," a young templar uttered.

The prisoner and guard both looked up at him. The way the lad looked he couldn't have been a templar long. The initiate averted his eyes when he noticed her looking up at him and nodded toward the dock. They both, then, turned in time to see that they were coming in to port. Adria looked at the templars preparing to make landfall and bit her lip nervously. She had to maintain her dignity. Don't rock the boat. Stay in control. Control your emotions, don't give them the satisfaction. Everything has to do with how you respond to your certain set of outcomes.

Thrask helped her up and led her off the ship. They were met by another templar. This one leered at her while he spoke to her jailor. They argued for a few moments before Thrask nodded and headed off, leaving her in the company of the young initiate and the man who had from the second she saw him made her nervous. He was a predator. His eyes fed upon her like a cannibal stalking its prey. He was then joined by another older templar who stared at her with the same mannerisms. She swallowed her fear; knowing all too well that if they sensed her discomfort it would only draw their attentions further. It was like chumming the water for sharks. They could sense blood in the water for miles and attack.

She glanced at the young man and nodded that she was ready to proceed in to the courtyard. The initiate held her belly chain and felt the gentle tug of her leg irons pull the belt around her waist. She trembled and felt her freedom slipping away with every step she took up the flight of stairs. The place was lifeless. Statues and wrought iron posts lined the staircase until at the top of the thirteenth step she stopped, only to look up at the tower itself and shudder. Her eyes burned and as she held off the lingering tears a firm hand shoved her in the back to continue. Her feet skittered several steps and paused long enough to glance over her shoulder at the perpetrator of the battery.

"Keran, go attend to the rest of your duties. We'll take care of this one ourselves," the deviant templar ordered with an angry sneer.

"Yes, Ser Alrik," the initiate stammered before fleeing the scene.

He glanced over his shoulder several times with a look of dread clearly placed on his face. She knew she was in trouble long before it ever came to his worries being expressed. She learned how to sense people's motives and desires. It was in fact what she had been designed to do from a very young age.

"You can't still be mad about that?" a voice cut through the air like a siren's call. "It happened years ago and you still want to hold that over my head, Cullen?"

"Neveren, you let a blood mage escape and you're only lucky you didn't get sent to Aeonar because that Warden decided to recruit you."

"Bullshit. Jowan was Greagor's problem along with Irving's he wanted me to help and I was going to be crucified because the damn Knight-Commander had his head up his ass… again."

"Why are you guys even arguing about this? It doesn't matter. We need to get back to the clinic. I'm sure Adria would like nothing more than to be relieved of her duties and resume her life without constantly worrying about hurting herself."

It was another familiar voice that Adria didn't think to hear in this place. Her head whipped around, sending her equilibrium in to a spiral. When the world stopped spinning around her, the shackled mage turned in the direction that the voices had come from and stopped. Her jaw dropped and the urge to scream came forth in an abrupt stop.

"Neveren!" she yelped at the top of her lungs. She tried to wave her hands but fell short of only getting them to her chest. "Anders!"

The two Wardens stopped their conversation with the templar and looked at her. They were stunned, far more than she was by her predicament. Anders started to move towards her but Neveren stopped him with a slow shake of the head. There was sadness in her cousin's eyes that stirred a terror-filled fit in to an all-out fight to get away.

"Bite your tongue, woman!" Alrik hissed with a violent jerk to her belly chain.

Adria pulled away with all her might and was clamped down by two strong arms picking her up and lumbering her further in to the prison. Her arms flailed and as she sobbed passers-by witnessed a meltdown that few had seen in some time. She shot her head back in to the templar's face and she fell like a stone to the ground. She spun around and saw the bald templar clutching at his face as blood poured through his fingers. She couldn't see the second templar anymore and prayed that he had split off for them.

"Neveren! Please!" she pleaded.

She tried to run to her and in an instant her vision went black and the sickening thud of her skull cracking from a forceful impact sent her to the ground in a heap. She felt herself stop breathing and a crushing pain filled her chest. Stars blurred her vision and sound slipped away in incoherent fragments.

"Take her to solitary confinement."

"Cullen, please. You know what will happen to her if you send her down to that pit. Meredith will ignore all her requests and she'll be left to the whims of your most ruthless templars," Neveren argued.

"You know how this works. Both of you do. Until Meredith and Orsino decide what to do with her: she will be taken care of to the utmost of our abilities."

"At what cost?" Anders scowled.

"Your insinuations as to what we templars do are mind-boggling sometimes. We have a duty to protect and educate. We have neither received word from any of our mages of mistreatment or the like."

Their raised voices trailed off in to the din of swirling colors and trauma. She was weightless and floating across the ground feet below. Small droplets of blood marked a trail from where she had rested in spatters of red that streamed down her hair as carelessly as a sopped paintbrush. It took too much effort to breath. Her body ached the more she struggled and felt hot liquid seeping on to her leg. The templar's voice was deep, hate-filled and menacing as he swore up and down what he was going to do to her for her transgression.

It wasn't worth the fight anymore. All was lost for her. She was to be another prisoner of the Gallows. Stuck with not just templars, but with other mages and she was already hesitant to trust any of them. They were easy to deceive others and the way that several stopped and looked at her as they walked down the stairs in to the prison made her even more apprehensive to be in their presence.

_I'm so, so sorry…_

* * *

><p><em>Hours later…<em>

"Damn it," Adria mumbled as the drumbeat of a concussion throbbed in her head.

Her eyes refused to open for fear that the dire reality of her being locked in the Gallows would slowly sink in and all futile attempts at escape would be destroyed. She had to force herself to do it, with her will waning with each inhale of stony cold air entering her lungs. She met darkness. It was a consuming darkness that even in her prone state made her feel adrift in the Void itself. It was fitting given her cursed life and lack of empathy for those that were once beneath her. All relations that she had kept in check by fluttering her eyelashes in a coy and playful manner at Danarius was the pedestal that had kept her – more or less – isolated from those that had been in the same set of circumstances as she.

Rolling on to her back, she felt the swollen knot from the abrupt impact that had sent her reeling. It felt huge. She winced as she felt around the lump. She fought her way through sticky, matted hair to the base of her skull. Her body shivered as the cold stone drove deeply in to her hip. She scoured the floor for landmarks and found nothing in the small cell. No bed, no nothing. It was a tomb encased in stone.

"Please Messere…"

A heavy lashing and the pop of blood being spilled came from the next cell. There was silence that bled through in volumes. Adria rose and neared the door. Her bare body pressed against the cold steel as she listened to the torture. Everything she had thought the templars were capable of was played out for her ears in reverberations. Soft sobs took over and the grunting that had become all too familiar for a liaison of many of them was frown worthy. She looked out the small window of her door and met with a pair of green eyes across the hallway staring back at her.

"Oh, hello! You got caught too?" the meek voice questioned.

"That obvious, huh?" Adria snorted.

"I've been here for a couple of weeks. I wonder if my clan even notices I'm gone."

"Dalish?"

"Yes. I was sent to pick up someone from the Grey Wardens, but things turned bad when the templars found us and took us both in. It's strange to think that they could be so callous to a boy and First."

"They're templars. It doesn't matter who you are; if you're a mage then they'll take you regardless," Adria finally grumbled before leaning against the door.

"I'm Merrill, by the way."

"Adria."

"Oh, that's such a pretty name. What's it mean? I haven't met too many humans so I ask out of curiosity," Merrill asked with an unusually happy chime in her voice.

"Nothing. It means nothing. It's just what it is," the irritated woman snapped.

Heavy metal footsteps drew closer to where they were at and stopped in front of her door. Adria looked over her shoulder and saw the eyes of the young initiate staring back at her. She refused to move from where she was and muttered under her breath to him that he'd have to beat her in to moving.

"Listen, I didn't have anything to do with what happened before. I'm here to take you to the First Enchanter. He wants to have a word with you. If you behave yourself, I won't have to put on these blighted shackles on you," Keran stated. The key turned in the lock and she felt pressure against her back as he tried to slide it open. She slid to the side and placed her foot in front of the door and stared at him. "I have clothes for you as well. Just be quick about it, I don't know when Ser Karras and Alrik will be by to…" He cleared his throat nervously and glanced from side to side to see if anyone was within earshot. "Test your mettle."

"Let them come. I'm not afraid of them," she replied, locking eyes with the young man. "If they think they can take me, they have another thing coming."

"Do not provoke them. It'll just make your stay here worse," he warned before handing her the gown and waiting for her to dress.

She didn't care if she was being watched. His eyes lingered on her as she pulled the robe over her head and lashed the sash around her waist. He opened the door further for her so she could slip out. Merrill and she met with nervous glances as the templar led her away from her cell. Keran looked distressed. The average templar confidence seemed to subside as they climbed up the stairs and back to the courtyard. Night had fallen and in the darkness and faint illuminations of the torches he led her in to the office of the First Enchanter. She looked around nervously and accepted the seat that was offered to her from the elf.

"You seem to have made an impression on some of our templars already," he smirked.

"I shouldn't be here," she grumbled.

"You are a mage. It's where you are supposed to be," he insisted.

"I can't do magic, First Enchanter. I'm not permitted it. I haven't been able to do it as well as your average mage can do in a very long time," she tried to explain as quickly as she could.

He poured her a cup of tea and sat on the corner of his desk. He watched her sip her tea and fidget anxiously as she tried to find the words to complete her thought. They were elusive and all she could conclude was to give him the synopsis of what had been done to her. Not that he would understand most of what had happened, but if she could get it in to him, maybe he could see she wasn't any harm to anyone but herself.

"Meredith had received an anonymous letter about you shortly before you were taken in to custody. She has it in her right mind to think that you are in fact a mage unless you can prove it otherwise. And that task in itself might be impossible with various eyewitness accounts stating that you are in fact a mage," Orsino stated with a frown.

"I am a mage. I never said I wasn't," she scowled and placed the cup on the desk. "My former master found out I could do it and branded me."

Orsino's eyebrow perked at what she had been insinuating. He looked her over for signs of this enigmatic marking that would keep her from doing magic. She sighed and pulled the shoulder of her robe down and waited as he hopped off his perch and inspected the intricate details and runes carved in to her. Cold fingertips ran across the symbols and stopped at a large hard knot just above her shoulder blade. She groaned as his fingers prodded at the lump and stopped when he noticed her discomfort.

He questioned her about it and all she could do was shrug. Her explanation seemed to intrigue him greatly at the fact such an archaic ritual even existed, but to her it was a reminder of her torture. The things that Danarius did to her and forced her to do from the time she was a child. Even then, those memories started to slip away in the slipstream of blockage and denial.

"I can't remember," she muttered when he asked about where she came from.

She gripped her stomach as an overwhelming pain shot through her abdomen. She leaped from her chair, startling the mage in the process and begged for the pain to end. She knew what it was. It was all too apparent. As the First Enchanter watched, she pulled her hands away and saw her reddened palms glistening in the fire light.

"What in Andraste's name is this?" he uttered before calling Keran back in to the room.

"No, no, no," she stammered. "Please don't. I can't stay here I have to find him before it's too late."

Keran ran in to the room and froze at the sight of the red smeared gown she wore growing more and more sanguine. Meredith's office door swung open and she approached the office and witnessed the wounded mage fall to her knees nearly unconscious and hemorrhaging from different parts of her body. Adria coughed and a string of bloody drool slid from her lips to the floor.

"What sort of magic is this, Orsino?"

"I don't know. I'll have to find out."

"Keran, take her to the infirmary. Orsino, we need to talk in private," Meredith snapped.

* * *

><p><em>Two weeks later…<em>

Fenris opened the door to the estate. The small pile of unopened mail that littered the floor should have been his first clue that something had been amiss. He took his sheath off his belt and walked up the stairs to see if Adria had arrived home yet. He knew that all her time in the clinic had been exhausting and if after all those nights alone and sleep deprived she'd have probably crashed in to a deep and intoxicating sleep.

"Welcome back," Isabela cooed from behind him.

"Don't you ever knock," he grumbled as he popped the cork on a wine bottle.

"You have easy locks. You might as well just leave the door open," she smirked and plopped in to Adria's chair. She kicked her thigh-high boots on to the table and awaited her glass of expensive Tevinter wine.

"Would it actually work if I got more difficult locks?"

"Probably not," she replied with a shrug. She took a sip as Fenris took his usual spot at the other end of the table and frowned. "Hey, did you hear about Adria?"

Fenris cocked his head and sat up straight in the chair.

"What happened?"

"Fenris!" Neveren yelped. He heard her armor shuffling as she made her way up the stairs to his room. "Thank the Maker you're back. We have a problem."

"Or a solution. Depends on how you want to look at it," Isabela smugly sighed. "I think optimism is the key in this situation."

"What's wrong?" Fenris barked as he became flustered by not only the busty pirate hungrily leering at him, but not one, but two Wardens standing in his doorway, huffing and puffing to catch their breaths. "Where's Adria? Why isn't she with you?"

"She was taken to the Circle," Anders stated.

"Really? Weren't you supposed to keep an eye on her? When did this happen?" he questioned, raising from his seat and beginning to pace.

"It wasn't our fault. It had happened two weeks ago. We had just gotten back to Kirkwall when we saw her with a compliment of templars," Neveren explained. "She tried to fight them off, but ultimately there wasn't much any of us could do. We're sorry."

Two weeks. That was the last time he'd seen her. The day he left was the day she was taken. As he listened to them ramble on about the finer details of her detention, he paused and shook his head.

"This might be the best place for her. Danarius won't get to her and she'll be amongst her own," he muttered. All the noise and arguments dropped to nothing as the three guests stopped and stared at him. "I know it sounds cold, but…"

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say," Anders growled. "This woman you supposedly care for will be held at the whims of her jailors and in all likelihood will end up being made Tranquil."

"Anders is right. How would you feel if everything that made her your Adria was stripped away and she was just a husk of that? You'd never see her smile and all her affections would be lost. She would be raped by them mentally and physically and there is no way to undo the damage once she's undergone the Rite. Could you live with yourself if it came to that?" Neveren questioned with a cold stare.

"Let's not be rash about this," Isabela finally stated and took her side by the elf. "He's only looking out for her best interests. Just pray the Maker is on her side and she'll be alright."

"I…," he stammered at the thought of Adria being branded. Her emotionless and dead eyes wouldn't register a modicum of care or concern for him anymore. All the long nights that would be far colder without her snuggled up against him. Even the petty arguments were something he would miss. "What do you suggest then?"

"Until we know what's going on with her; our hands are tied," Neveren replied. "I might be able to speak with Orsino and get an update."

"I know a couple of the mages there, I'll see if I can get some information that way. Karl should still be receiving my letters. If I can, I'll have him tell her to write you so you know that she's alright," Anders chimed sullenly. "We'll do everything we can to get her back. It's just going to take time."

Fenris cracked an awkward smirk. The thought of breaking a mage out of the Circle was a funny little idea that he never thought he'd be a part of. Though the conception of his deep seated devotedness to the gelded mage made the plan seem almost doable; he feared what the repercussions would be after they got her out. He knew he wasn't going to let her work in the clinic without Anders being there to supervise and he frowned again when he glimpsed Isabela leering at him with a sense of discontent.

"Only time will tell if there is anything we can do," Neveren said placing her hand on her hip. "We know how you feel about mages, but this Adria we're talking about. Just be ready when it's time to go."

"Hopefully I won't be called away again before it happens," he muttered. He took a large swallow of wine from the bottle and set it on the table. "Go work your magic and let me know if anything turns up."

"Do you want me to stay and keep you company," the pirate purred.

"No, Isabela. Out," Neveren snapped.

The bronze-skinned woman scowled and headed out the door with a final glance of longing written all over her face. Fenris' heart nearly stopped at the glance but shook it off as Neveren stepped in between them. The Warden and he stared each other down in silence. Why she had decided to remain was a mystery, but the look on her face spoke volumes. It was a mix of anxiety, anger, and benevolence.

"I never thought I'd be helping a mage escape the Gallows," he uttered as he flopped on to the bed.

"She isn't just a mage, Fenris. This is Adria: your friend and mate, my cousin and everyone's little girl. If you really want to save her from all the bad in the world, this is a good place to start. Danarius is just a piece of what you two have become. Don't let all she's done for you be forsaken because of what her natural inclination happens to be. You've looked passed it before and even now staring at you I can see something that you probably don't want anyone else to know."

Neveren headed for the door and paused when Fenris cleared his throat.

"What's that?"

"You love her and it scares you to death. My question is: does she know?"

"I'm sure she does," he replied, closing his eyes.

"Are you sure? Have you told her?"

"No."

"Too afraid to relinquish control to a different master?" she spat before leaving the room.

"It's nothing like that!" he growled. The sound came from him his chest in a low rumble.

Control. Master. He didn't like either and to think that Adria could hold that much power over him made him sick to his stomach. It pained him to think that everything she had done, she'd done for him at the cost of blood and pain. Her own anguish became his life preserver when he was pushed to grasping at fine straws. She drew him back and breathed life in to him. She didn't care if she killed herself for him as long as he was alright and he didn't like that notion; it should have been the other way around.

_I'm so, so sorry… Adria._


	31. Chapter 31

_Six months later…_

Solitary confinement was far easier than Adria had expected in comparison to her month long stint in Danarius' dungeon. Every four hours she was sent to Orsino's office and was under constant supervision of both Ser Thrask and Keran while she was allowed out of her cell. She gave Meredith a wide berth only to avoid the damning stares and menacing frown that gave away her suspicions that she was a blood mage. As much as she had tried to explain to both of them what had happened in her time in Minrathous, the Knight-Commander seemed to ignore her words – at one point calling her a liar to her face - while the First Enchanter seemed more intrigued by her story and the curiousness in how it all came to pass.

The explanations seemed to run dry and open up a floodgate of finger pointing from Meredith when she explained that the lyrium wasn't just lyrium, but the blood of her friend and former bodyguard. The cold woman cackled at the audacity of such a thing only to be shot down by the malevolent stares that both Adria and Orsino had directed at her. It was the only time that gelded mage had smirked since she had arrived at the Circle. The stammering and anxiety of being caught by the reminder of what happened to her the first time they met seemed to be a low blow that sent the templar away in huff.

Now as the sixth month of her confinement was coming to an end, she found herself in the Circle's library; her nose stuck in a book and reading a carefully placed note that had been sent to her from Neveren while other mages - she had come to know - discussed the insanity and breaking that the templars were having them endure. Their voices always remained barely audible so as not to be overheard, but occasionally, Adria would peek over the top of the dusty tome when something would pique her interest and mutter in Arcanum about how stupid she thought their whining was. Every time she said something in her foreign Tevinter tongue, the group would stop and look at her for several moments before returning to their hemming and hawing that never seemed to change.

"You've been lucky so far," Grace grumbled with an irritated glance.

"Have I?" Adria mockingly questioned. She thumbed the edge of her note and smirked at the message Fenris had the Warden write to her. "If by luck you mean: a 'shitty fate', a joke, and whatever irrationally implausible adjective you want to call it then yeah, I've been lucky."

"You herald from Tevinter though. What would you know about mage oppression?" the woman fired nearly jumping out of her chair and pouncing on the amused Adria.

Adria sighed and glanced over the faces of Karl, Merrill, Feynriel and stopped at Alain who was stammering for Grace to calm down and not make a scene. She grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled something down and handed it to Anders' friend before rising from her seat and circling the rectangular table once and taking her place behind her verbal sparring partner. Two templars walked passed them, surveyed the situation, and resumed their patrol. Adria gave an exaggerated sigh and knelt beside her and stared her in the eye.

"Mage oppression. A discussion on the Imperium and its mages should be argued by those who actually know what they are talking about. Not some sniveling little half-wit that 'thinks' they understand how Tevinter works," Adria growled. Her eyes darted from side to side as she leaned against the table and glared down at the mage angrily. "If you knew a tenth of what I do about that place, you would realize that if you had been in my position you'd have been sold off and sacrificed in some blood ritual by your master. If you come in to the city as a mage, you are nothing. Odds are you will stay that way until you die and usually it's a painful death that will claim you. Being a mage doesn't matter to them unless you have something they want.

Besides, dealing in this manner with our less than social banter doesn't seem to assuage anything more than your inferior superiority complex."

Grace shot from her chair and scowled. Her fists shook as she tried to restrain herself from assaulting the smirking woman. Adria blew her bangs from her face and chuckled as she resumed her previous position at the far end of the table. Swinging her legs on to the tabletop and ignoring the fact that the posturing former apostate continued to rail against her; she opened her book again and reread her note.

_Try and hold on a little longer._

She turned to Karl and smiled. Something in that brief statement caused her cheeks to blush and eyes to shimmer with burning tears. He nodded and patted her hand reassuringly. She cleared her throat and shuddered as Keran and another templar approached. His pace slowed as he drew closer and Karl muttered under his breath that the young man liked her. She scoffed and shook her head at the idea before finally being approached.

"Orsino wants to see you," Keran said as firmly as his wavering voice would allow.

"What about?" Adria asked.

"He didn't say."

"Perfect," she uttered with a sigh. She tapped Merrill on the shoulder and smirked. "And this is where they tell me I'm done for."

"It won't be so bad, lethallan. I'm sure they just want to do your check-up again," the elf chirped. Her green eyes twinkled as she resumed her conversation with Feynriel.

"Let's get this over with then," Adria grumbled.

* * *

><p>They walked in silence, barely taking notice of the noises that had leaked from the corridor in which the First Enchanter's and Knight-Commander's offices resided. It was bright and sticky as they stood at the gate leading in to the main thoroughfare of the complex. Adria twisted her hair around her finger with a bored look on her face. Keran glanced over at her and faked a smirk. She, in turn, returned the gesture and leaned against the portcullis in anticipation of her meeting.<p>

"Isn't it early for this?" she questioned, folding her arms across her chest and scowling.

"I don't think this has anything to do with what you think it does," the templar stated.

An armed guard approached from the other side of the large iron gate. The two spoke briefly before allowing them to pass. Adria licked her lips coyly as her guard opened the door for her to proceed. They both stopped short when they saw a rather heated argument between Neveren and Meredith in the hall.

"Oh, get off your high horse, Meredith. You don't scare me," Neveren snapped. "If there was ever a time to hear that popping sound from your head escaping your ass, it would be now."

Adria chuckled at her cousin's brazen attitude towards the irate templar. The crossed arms and lopsided smile that goaded the spiteful woman in to doing something was all the more amusing when Anders came out of Orsino's office and whispered in the Warden-Commander's ear. She nodded and glanced at Adria. The grin grew wider as Neveren continued with her casual posture and awaited the usual threat that tended to punctuate their conversations.

Looking at the platinum blond staring up at the flaxen haired imposer-of-all-things-templar, there was a noticeable size difference. Maybe that was what made it all the more exhilarating for the younger mage to see. Neveren showed no fear and actually enjoyed prodding the other for the sheer fact that she knew she could.

"If you weren't a Warden I'd have you both thrown in the Gallows," Meredith growled.

"That's good, Meredith. If it makes you feel better I can say 'oh no, not that, please anything but that,'" Neveren chirped with a smug look on her face and started to leave.

"How dare you!" she screamed.

Meredith snatched her by her arm only to be met with the more petite mage's hand clamping down on her wrist and bending her arm unnaturally. Meredith winced as Neveren applied more pressure and glared at her with icy, black eyes.

"I enjoy playing these games with you, but the second you touch me it goes far beyond that. Don't ever think I won't put my supposed neutrality aside to kick your ass from one end of the hall to the other for the sake of doing it. If you really want to make this personal: then go ahead," Neveren hissed before releasing her from her grip. She turned back to Adria and frowned. "You have a decision to make, dear Cousin. I would say go with the lesser of two evils. Only then will you be made free."

Adria cocked her head and stepped aside as the two Wardens left. She waved at Anders who smiled and continued on with his friend. When she turned back around and met with Meredith's infuriated scowl, she nodded and pressed past her as if unphased by it. The Knight-Commander's temperament did nothing to change her already perky mood.

"You wanted to see me?" Adria asked with a faint smile as she leaned in the office door.

Orsino was lost in thought. His whole little world was confined to the dusty tomes that had littered his desk in stacks that were on the verge of tipping. He waved her in, never taking his eyes off the note that had been thoughtfully placed in front of him. She felt the cold steel of Keran's hand push her further in and the faint breeze against her back as he closed the door behind her. She was motionless and refused to say anything more until she had been properly acknowledged.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he uttered uncomfortably. His eyes drifted from the text briefly to her and smirked. "Though it was more a pleasure to see Neveren regardless." He swept the parchment in to a drawer and interlaced his fingers thoughtfully. "She and Meredith have been at odds since they arrived."

"Why am I not surprised?" Adria snorted. Placing her hands in her lap and frowning, she turned her attentions to the aged elf with a look of worry. "I'm guessing you've decided on what to do with me?"

The First Enchanter rose from his seat, running his fingers through his greying hair and paced behind his large backed chair. He seemed to grow older with each circuit he made. The air in the room was growing tenser when they met eyes and neither spoke. Adria cocked her head knowing from the look in his eye it was something that didn't bode well for either of them.

"I'm out of options," Orsino muttered, placing his hands on the desk and looked down at her remorsefully. "Meredith is pushing for tranquility."

"And?" Adria interrupted.

"There might be another way around it."

He shuffled through a stack of papers and set one intricately crafted scroll in front of her. She picked it up and scanned the document with little care. The further down she read, the more her stomach tied in knots. By the end of it she was so infuriated by the alternative to being a drooling idiot she leapt from her chair and crumbled it in to a ball and threw it at him. She leaned on the desk and just inches from his face glared threateningly.

"You are out of your damn mind if you think I'm going along with that!" she yelped.

"There's only so much I can do for you here. It's either this or a mental death," Orsino sadly stated with a scowl.

"You are _not_ sending me to the Tevinter Circle! You'd be sending me to my death anyways," she huffed and started her own line of pacing. "What in the Maker's name made you think I would abide by that? You really want me to sign my death warrant?"

"I'm sorry, Adria," Orsino stammered.

"You're not sorry, Orsino," she argued. "If I had a copper for every time someone said…"

The door swung open, distracting the two mages enough for them to look at what had caused the overzealous slamming of the door. Keran stood there, winded with a flush to his cheeks as he stammered incessantly with little coherence.

"Maker's breath, spit it out," Orsino softly spoke as he rounded the desk and approached the wide-eyed templar.

"It's Elsa," he puffed. He kept pointing, his lips moved but words failed to come. "She's- she's- she's threatening to jump."

Adria gasped and rushed out of the room with Orsino and Keran. Little Elsa was emotionally frail and in the passing weeks had shown signs of psychological wear. Adria had done everything to protect her from the templars when she was around, even if it meant stepping in front of them to keep them from getting at her until someone more level headed had arrived. There was only so much she could do from her own confines and that's when most had taken the opportunity to use and abuse her.

The three of them looked up at the tallest tower and saw her half-hanging from the broken window. Shouts had drifted down to them from templars and mages alike trying to call her inside. Shopkeepers and passing visitors stood witness to the sight as Elsa called down to Adria to stay down there. She couldn't stop her: it was too much to take anymore.

* * *

><p>They hurried up the stairs, shoving several templars and mages aside as they made it on to the landing. Meredith met them with her usual annoyed frown and warned Adria that this wasn't her concern. Adria glanced around her and saw both Alrik and Karras bellowing orders at the blonde woman. More concerned with the plight of her suicidal friend, she shouldered past her with a roll of the eyes and stopped just feet away from the sobbing Elsa.<p>

"Cram it, Meredith. Call your templars back and let me talk to her," Adria snapped harshly.

"I will not," Meredith spat. "You don't have the right to give me orders, mage."

Adria spun around and cocked her head.

"You're right," she muttered with a shrug. "If you gave one damn about her you'd realize that the last thing she needs is more stress. Call them down. Now. But I know you won't because your ego is far too thick to think straight."

"Meredith, just let her try," Orsino stepped in.

"To the Void with this," Adria growled before Meredith could respond and stepped between the two yelling templars.

They both grew silent as she glanced over her shoulder and threatened to do vile things to her for impeding them. She shook her head and refused to respond to them. She devoted her attention wholly to Elsa. Her small pale hands gripped the sill, while shards of thick glass cut at her bruised legs. The split lip and black eye were the familiar trademarks that she had been assaulted again.

"Please don't," she moaned as Adria inched closer.

"It's alright, come down from there. There's no need to do this. I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it from happening again." Adria took another step and put her hands up to show that she wasn't a threat. The wild-eyed hysteria and blood slowly dripping from Elsa's wrists were the start of her personal execution that had probably been halted when the templars had come in. "It's my fault."

"No," Elsa corrected. "This was the final straw and it isn't your fault at all. You tried. I never wanted to be here. I miss my momma and poppa and being resigned to death here is a far worse death sentence than anything I could have faced out in the real world."

"That's not true. I've been out there. I've seen the cruelty on both ends and this…" she paused and unlaced her bodice to show her the many tell-tale reminders that she had to carry with her. "Look at it, Elsa." She showed her the numerous scars from her dragging through broken glass, the scars on her palms from her abuse and the raised silvery scar from when Danarius had stabbed her. "This was done by one person. A person I whole-heartedly thought I loved and my reward was this." She took another step and smiled. "Remember what we said the templars would do to my brand if they had the chance?"

Elsa's eyes sparkled and a small glimmer of a smile came over her. She relaxed and nodded.

"They would probably try to lick it just to feed their addiction," she said meekly.

"Wouldn't that be a sight?" Another step followed by another and she was nearly next to her. She glanced over her shoulder to Orsino and Meredith and chuckled. "Remember the stories I told you about my adventures with Fenris and Seheron? Come down and let me help you. Please. I understand what it's like to see the world as a failure. Please!"

Elsa sighed and her eyes went dead. Panic set in when Adria knew that the decision had been made. She was failing. That sinking dread that had followed her with every step she took was howling in to the rafters at another loss that she hadn't prevented. Elsa hung further out the window ready to plummet to the ground, where the pain would be so quick it wouldn't register and there would be nothing to follow.

Adria hurried as her friend began her fall and nearly went out the window with her. Jagged glass dug in to her sides as she held Elsa's wrist. She struggled and fought to breath. An audible gasp escaped the audience as she tried to prevent her friend's fall.

"Let me go," Elsa pleaded without looking at her. She kept avoiding making eye contact, yet her crystal blue eyes kept looking from the fading cerulean above to the white of the stone below.

"You know I'm not going to do that," Adria groaned as she readjusted.

"I remember what you told me, Adria." She began fiddling with something behind her back. "It's not your fault. You just wanted to save someone for absolution."

"Yes, I keep score. Can you blame me?" she weakly chuckled.

"You will one day. I promise," Elsa muttered softly. "Just not today."

She pulled a small dagger from behind her and slashed it across Adria's wrist. It cut deeply in to the flesh and her fingers went lax. She watched her friend fall. Numb, cold tendrils were sinking deeper in to her as she shut herself off from the pain. She didn't cry, didn't yell and as she witnessed the end, it was the closest to peace she'd seen on Elsa's face since they had met. Screams erupted from below as the sickening thud of dead weight made impact with the ground

"Son of a bitch," Adria snapped as she turned around. She held her wounded arm close to her chest and began to walk away from the shattered window.

"That's one less robe we have to worry about," Ser Karras jovially smirked. "That's what you get when you have weak willed tarts."

His tone lit Adria like a tinder twig. Her downcast eyes shot up to the templar with contempt. She lunged at him, taking him to the floor and backhanding him twice before Ser Alrik grabbed her by the hair and threw her to Keran. Meredith ordered her back to solitary. Orsino objected the Knight-Commander and insisted that she go to the Infirmary for her injuries. They bickered and as the two of them stood toe to toe with each other, Adria realized then and there what Neveren had been trying to tell her. The lesser of two evils. Death or death of spirit. Either way it was suicide, but a suicide run was what she had been on for years with Danarius constantly living in the shadows.

Keran wrapped her wrist in a scrap of cloth and waited for orders from Meredith. They were oblivious to the dripping blood and cold stare that the wounded mage was giving to them. Ser Thrask entered the fray along with Cullen which only escalated things to another level.

"Enough!" Adria growled. "You two seriously don't get it, do you? You have a dead girl down there because of your ineffectualness. If I'm to be part of this then I'd rather be made tranquil!"

The four of them stopped and looked at her.

"Are you serious?" Keran questioned.

"Adria, do you know what this means?" Orsino argued.

"What does it matter?" she replied with a shrug.

"The girl is obviously in shock," Thrask stepped in. "We need to get her to the Infirmary."

"You're request has been noted," Meredith stated.

"We don't know what will happen to you – what with your ritual," Orsino said.

"We'll just have to find out now won't we," she grumbled.

"Then it is decided. She'll have the Rite of Tranquility administered," Meredith remarked. "Take her to the Infirmary and have her patched up. I'll finish the paperwork on it."

Keran led her carefully down the stairs, constantly looking for signs of shock. Adria shook violently as the chills from a cold perspiration oozed from her pores. She was ghost white and as the next step began in her decent in to hypovolemic shock, her head began to swim and she felt like she was suffocating. She stumbled down several steps and dry heaved from the near constant dizzy spell. The templar stopped and pulled her closer.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She shook her head and rested it on the chilled steel armor on his shoulder. He looked behind them and saw the blood droplets leading a path back to their former location. "I understand."

He hoisted her up in to his arms and continued down the spiraling staircase. He paused briefly, jolting her from her hazy semi-conscious sleep and heard Merrill, Feynriel, and Karl all speaking at once about what had happened. Keran was brief in his explanation and told them about the Rite. Her head swiveled up at Karl who nodded when her eyes told him exactly what she had intended to do. It couldn't have been more apparent to them about her idea to escape the Circle to begin with. She had offered to get them out if they could get things set up. She knew that the easiest way to get out was on the way to getting tranquilized.

Heaviness seemed to crush her as they began walking again. It wasn't long before she was laid out in a cot where a senior enchanter had been summoned to aid her. The elderly man covered a bloody body with a sheet and blocked her view. In the short time since Elsa's demise it seemed that everyone knew what had happened and how she had tried to stop it. Everyone looked as if they were accusing her of failing. They didn't need to; she already felt she had… again.

"Rest, Adria. We'll get you tended to," the kind mage said with a smile.

"She's going to be alright?" Keran questioned.

"Of course, she will, boy," the healer scoffed. "Don't let her frail little body deceive you – she is strong."

"But she lost a lot of blood," the templar squeaked, looking down at his armor with streaks of red piercing and bright slipping down to his boots.

"If I didn't know any better: I'd think you were in love with the mage," the elder mage jabbed.

"That's preposterous," he stammered.

The healer looked down at a fading Adria and winked. She closed her eyes and felt the warm embrace close around her. She was weightless in the ether as the whir of magic spread across her body. Lingering thoughts soared far from her, her heartbeat slowed, its tempo matching that of Fenris'. The familiar drumming that had never dispersed while she was there. The stone walls couldn't keep it out and the distance put between them hadn't ebbed in strength.

She pictured herself there at the estate, sipping wine and sharing stories with Varric, while Fenris' piercing green eyes and gravelly grunts radiated through her body with subtle glances and hidden smirks. Their game that they played in public left open to all interpretations. His arms would wrap around her waist in intoxication as he pulled her in to his lap and devoured her with gentle kisses along her neckline. The tug of her hair as his hands traced her curves and commemorating each to memory.

_Hurry. I'm falling._

* * *

><p><em>Fenris' estate, twilight…<em>

It was like a jolt to his system. The paranoid feeling that someone was in the room with him loomed all around like a shroud of dragon's blood essence in the air. He missed his little mage and when word had finally reached him about a mage committing suicide at the Gallows from Anders and Neveren he nearly darted out of the house to see if it was her. His body ached from battle and the strangest tingle from his wrist made him look down at it briefly. He rubbed it feverishly until the pins and needles were worn away.

The Wardens had left him to his own devices when they had admitted that it wasn't Adria that had made the leap from the upper stories of the tower. Their explanation as to her welfare gladdened him to the point that she hadn't been broken and from their estimates she was being well cared for by several mages and a couple of templars. Even the good news would dwindle away when he looked at the empty bed and chair that Adria hadn't occupied in months. The unworn clothes that remained in their same place since the day she left remained frozen in time for her return.

It was lonely and drab in the master chamber where he'd confined himself when he was off duty from the Coterie. He rose from his seat and walked around the room. He heard a soft giggle from behind him and spun around to see who or what it was. There was nothing. A figment of his imagination feeding on his broken will. Soft footsteps from leather soled slippers hurried towards him from behind him.

"You've been drinking too much," he admitted to himself under his breath with a scowl.

He glanced at the empty wine bottles on the table and shook his head. He was in his own prison. Whether it was at the bottom of a bottle or his caged heart locked in the Gallows; he was a prisoner to every aspect of his life that she had touched. A soft caress crossed his lower back and warm breath hit the back of his neck. His head fell back against a feathery crown of hair. Another giggle came from behind him and he smirked. Thin arms wrapped around him and as he turned to look at the cruel apparition: the physical feelings disappeared and there was no one. He was alone, being haunted by her ghost and disembodied laugh.

He shook it off, cursing himself for letting his petty feelings get the better of him. He walked over to the double doors that led to a small balcony and felt the night air encapsulate him. The balmy night cried for a rainstorm and was easily denied by the sweltering heat. He hated this damn city, hated this estate, hated Danarius for chasing them down like animals, but most of all he hated himself. Everything he'd ever done seemed to have caused her pain. A fellow by the name of Sebastian – who was a new acquaintance to Neveren – had the dogged determination to tell him that all the ill things he had committed would be overlooked when it was his time to be judged by the Maker. He scoffed at the idea and remembered Adria's usual retort to such nonsense.

_A twice absent Maker is going to judge me when he can overlook so much with nary a care? What gives him the right? Bloody hypocrite._

She and Altar Boy would be like oil and water if they ever met. She had every right and justification to take any word made by the Chantry with a grain of salt.

"Adria," he uttered to himself.

"I love you, Fenris," her voice carried in his ears as softly as the sweetest whisper.

"I love you, too," he spoke.

His heart quickened and a warmth in his gut made him ache. He turned away from the garden that had gone in to disrepair except one patch of blood red roses at the far back and proceeded to rub the harshness of salty tears from his eyes.

_"You never failed me."_

"I'm going to make all of this up to you," he stated. "I just don't know when."

He strolled over to the wash basin and poured water in to it. He splashed it on his face and looked in the mirror. There she as, looking back at him. The shadowy figure giving glimpses of pale white flesh and supernatural green eyes smiled back at him as his fingers graced the glass. She stepped from the darkness in to the illumination of the fire place.

_"You don't need to. All I need is you," _she purred.

"I needed to hear you say that," he muttered. He couldn't bear to turn around and know she was never there. "Why of all people is it me?"

_"You've protected me from so much more than you think. I've put a lot of my life behind me because of you. Nothing exists without you. You're the only one I see in a crowded room," _she explained.

He turned his head slightly and saw her standing there. He wanted to rush to her and hold her. Even if it was a dream it was worth living with it for just a short while. It was a daydream that needed to happen to keep him going just so he knew that he was alive. He heard her stifled crying and made the decision then and there that the risk of her slipping through his fingers was too great. He spun around and hurried towards the figure only to stumble to his hands and knees. He didn't know how long it was going to last so he crawled to her and as he extended his hand to her she faded away in front of him. He slammed his fist in to the floor and scowled.

_You were foolish to think it would last._

He rose to his feet and headed for bed. He turned away from the outside world. His hand felt the chilled vacant spot where she would be again. He was going to make damn sure of it, whether he had to die to achieve it or not, her being a pawn for so many was nonnegotiable. His life for her freedom was nobler than anything a snooty elitist could give her.

* * *

><p><em>Two weeks later, Gamlen's estate…<em>

Neveren had called them all to the estate in the dead of night. From the messenger's tone it was urgent. The dire look on the Warden's face as she glanced at the crumpled parchment in her hands seemed to drill through it to the floor. Her short blonde hair seemed a shocking color silver as she shook the platinum locks from her face. She bit her lower lip, the same way Adria did when she was in thought or nervous about what to say, and frowned.

"Is that Adria's letter?" Anders questioned, taking his place between Fernis and Alistair.

"Aye, it is," she nodded as she reread it. She huffed once and muttered to herself. "I'd give this to you to read yourself, but since there is that small problem we have already discussed I'll just get to it." She steadied herself and coughed with a glance to the elf. "Cousin, it seems the impasse has finally been breached. I thought that your templar friend would keep his subordinates in line, but I guess not…"

* * *

><p>She didn't know how much time had passed since her return to the dank prison cell she called home. Her shattered night was only made more apparent by the constant nighttime rustling the rats did in the hallways or the sobs of mages being beaten in to submission. A new sense of dread seeped in to her soul as she hid in her far off corner in the pitch. She wanted to grieve her loss in private when she heard Merrill's voice calling her.<p>

Still weakened by the blood loss she winced as she moved towards the door and replied that she wasn't in the mood for conversation. Feynriel replied that they had overheard Ser Alrik and Ser Karras planning a raid on her that evening. Adria groaned and rubbed the weariness from her eyes and rested her head on the door before finally standing and peering out the window in to the dim hall. Large Dalish eyes met hers and glistened with delight.

"That's good for them. I hope they enjoy it," she muttered.

"Are you giving up then?" Karl asked.

"I'm not as passive as some of these waifs that just submit. If they want something from me, they are going to have to force it out of me," she defiantly stated. "Did you get what I asked for?"

"Yes."

"Alright. How is Alain fairing?"

"He's taking it really hard. We're really worried about you and what the templars have planned. After you attacked Ser Karras they pretty much have a vendetta. I won't let that happen," Karl snapped.

"Don't worry about me," Adria cooed. "I'll be alright. I promise. Don't draw attention to yourselves, I beg of you."

She turned them unable to process all the endless possibilities they had planned for her. Creativity was one thing, but plain cruelty came easy and lacked imagination. While her willpower seemed to fill her with a sense of invulnerability, it would only be a matter of time before everything that ever happened would break her. Not Danarius or the templars but the lurking darkness that was her past. She would embrace it and let those bygones be what they were, but the fading embers and phantasms that dwindled seemed more a blessing than a curse. She didn't know how far it had gone and maybe her curse was more a gift from Danarius. But where did it stop or would it consume her entirely?

The echo of the steel door at the top of the stairs slamming shut was the first sign that things were going to get worse in the interim before they got better. She readied herself, taking several steps from the door and watched as the shadows drew closer. A set of dagger sharp blue eyes peered in to the room. The corners crinkled in to the standard sickening grin that she had come to know.

As the key turned in the lock an awkward sense of peace settled over her. She swallowed her pride and the pain drifted in to the din. Her jaw clenched tightly as the door opened and four templars came in to the room. She stepped backwards as they filled in the vacant spaces and sized her up like a piece of meat. Ser Alrik didn't take his eyes off of her as she crossed her arms and squared off.

"You have been more trouble than necessary," Ser Karras growled.

"Are we talking about getting beat like a bitch?" Adria snorted. "If so then it was trouble well spent."

"There are rumors about you. The little whore from the Rose that Lusine charged a fortune for," Karras retorted, taking a step closer to her. "Now that we are in charge of you, there is no need for the charges. You'll service us for free."

"Service you?" she questioned. She pondered the idea and a spark of provocation hit her like a ton of bricks. "The others had issue 'servicing' you. They said your performance was rather… shallow, broken, and quite – I don't know – ill-equipped to use your 'tools' effectively."

The templar stared her down, fuming at the insult. Adria, on the other hand, chuckled maniacally until tears ran. A hard sock to the stomach sent her to the floor gasping for air, but her laugh never broke. She hacked several times and stood. She shook it off and awaited the next assault. They always came in pairs. This time it was Alrik who did the honors. Again, she fell to her knees and muttered insults that resulted in what they called 'divine retribution.'

Karras pulled her up by the hair and slapped her across the face. Her ears rang from the hard steel gauntlet coming in to contact with her skull. The force was dreadful and spun her around. She wobbled and spat. The taint of blood flooded her taste buds with its sweet, metallic taste. Her hands searched the walls and when her strength began to recover she responded with a right hook to her assailant's jaw. He staggered back and swept her legs out from under her. The back of her head hit the wall behind her sending her vision in to a tailspin.

"You will do as you are told. Ser Alrik is going to do things to you that you've never dreamed and you are going to take it. He's going to put things in your mouth and you are going to be thankful do you hear me?"

"Piss off," she growled. Alrik stepped on her mended wrist with his heavy boot and pulled her up by her hair and kneed her in the face. Her teeth clattered in her head and as they picked her up again they forced her against the wall with a shove to the back. "I'm going to kill you."

Heavy hands grabbed her skirt and began pulling it up. She fought until the fabric tore leaving her partially bare to the men staring hungrily at her.

"That's a first," Karras scoffed. "None of the mages have threatened us like that. So much determination."

"If you have to resort to whores and helpless mages, then there's not much to stand up to now is there?" she fired back.

The templar yanked her head back causing her to gasp as he violated her with his hands.

"You're going to do this now. Don't think we don't know about your little elf friend or the estate. It would be unfortunate if anything happened to him, don't you think?"

"It didn't work with Danarius when he said those things; it's definitely not going to work here either," she groaned angrily as his tongue bathed her skin in disgusting sticky saliva.

"The angry little rat in a cage doesn't have anything to lose then," Alrik chortled.

The templar's weight shifted behind her and as she closed her eyes knowing the inevitable was going to occur, a voice broke away the tension.

"Ser Karras, Ser Alrik, that's enough," Ser Thrask snapped.

The mage and templars turned around and saw him and Keran standing there. The boy looked terrified while several other templars took up their flanks.

"Thrask, there is nothing for you here," Alrik grumbled.

"There's plenty here that needs to end," he argued. "Go tend to her, Keran."

The young templar rushed to her side and pulled her out of her cell as gently as he could. Adria looked at the stunned green eyes from Merrill as she led her up the stairs and back to the infirmary. Twice in one day was a rarity, but given her special circumstances was always an inevitability. Keran wrapped her in a blanket as they walked through the courtyard in the dead of night.

"They better be going on report," Adria uttered, pulling the harsh fabric tighter around her.

"It won't matter, Meredith won't listen to it," Keran stated.

"I need to get out of here, Keran. Please," she begged.

"You know I can't do that," he replied. He stopped and looked her over. He frowned remorsefully and dabbed the small dribble of blood from her chin. "If I could I would. I wish you hadn't decided to do the Rite."

They stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity. She shook her head with a broken heart and almost broke down on the spot. Even with the pain sending doses of adrenaline through her system, her world continued to crumble. If he hadn't been so devout to his cause she'd have told him what she had planned. But alas, it wasn't in the cards.

"It's a deadly game I play and the one person I want to save me right now is probably enjoying the splendors of freedom," she uttered. The rank sadness that permeated her words hit home to the templar.

"He'd be foolish to just abandon you."

"I just want to see him before it happens… one last time."

* * *

><p>Neveren stopped reading abruptly. The rage that filled Fenris was only magnified by what came after the horror filled story of what Adria had endured in his absence. The vision was a mirror image of everything he'd witnessed happen to her while in Danarius' custody. He sprung from his chair and knocked a table over in his anger.<p>

"I know I only gave you an omission filled message last time. It's about time I face what happened. Just don't tell Fenris," the Warden paused and watched as the elf prowled the far corners of the study. All eyes were on him, waiting for him to react more harshly than overturning furniture. He had a right to be angry. No one could tell him differently.

"We should of done something before this happened," he growled.

"She's in protective custody. I had to pull some strings and call in a favor for Orsino, but she's safe," Neveren explained.

"So that's it? We just leave her to be used once she's been made Tranquil?" he bellowed. "Why didn't you tell me there was another letter?"

He wanted to attack her. Her words fell on deaf ears. It was her fault, his fault, Orsino's, Meredith's, Maker, even Adria's fault for trying to be so damn brave. The little matyr. He couldn't take it and stomaching anymore would have made his temper become more hostile. Looking away was the safest option, along with praying that there was nothing left that could drag the dagger further in to him.

"_Protect the Little Miss…"_

A reminder. A failure. Everything that he had promised was pulverized in to dust at the hands of those people he had thought were the good guys for protecting Thedas from mages. Seheron were the happiest moments of his life and his unspoken vows to her seemed for nothing.

_"I'd sell my soul for you…"_

"Is there anything else?" Anders asked.

Neveren glanced down at the parchment one last time and smiled.

"There is, but this is strictly for Fenris."

The elf turned towards the narrator of the ill-fated letter and waited. His eyebrow perked in anticipation of more news that couldn't be any worse.

"The Rite is going to be soon. The escape will be in play before I ever get to the location. Tell Fenris: if I don't make it know that, I've loved him all along."

It nearly brought him to his knees. It was a sucker punch far harder than he had come to expect. He closed his eyes and screamed for her from within. He was going to save her. Be the knight in armor she had joked about never coming. Even though she had called him the hero several times. Her white knight amongst a land of magic and betrayal. He was the constant.

Once again, that overwhelming warmth surged through him. The smell of her hair, the feel of her skin, the warmth of her body against his. She was right there, holding him.

_"Someday, somehow, I'm going to make everything alright…"_

"I want to see her tomorrow," he harshly ordered.

Neveren smiled and nodded.

"I figured you would; even if it is one last chance I say: take it. Tomorrow it is, then. Meet me at the docks in the morning. We'll go see her."

Fenris tried to hide his enthusiasm. It was such an audacious display that he hardly showed. Isabela scowled and stormed out which didn't diminish his split enjoyment. He would see her and hopefully – if Orsino allowed it – embrace her for as long as was permitted. Even still, he wouldn't let her go.

The look on her face would be priceless and heartbreaking in one shot. He would tell her how much he loved her in case it ended up being the end. She needed to know and he needed to tell or he'd come to regret it.


	32. Chapter 32

Elusive sleep was the best way to describe the tossing and turning that twirled the sheets in knots and kept the elf from finally succumbing to anticipation mixed with exhaustion. Time was ticking at almost a standstill and every second seemed to be a passing year that failed to end only repeat. The low crackle over his back from the sputtering wood ablaze in the hearth across the room still managed to emanate a slow bone piercing heat.

He hated excitement when it disturbed his fundamental urges, but this was special. Special in a way that he had to muster what wavering courage he had to face Adria and tell her what she meant to him. Even alone the mere thought of uttering such soul sucking words made his throat swell with fear. But there was something far worse than letting his guard down that seemed to gnaw on him far worse than wearing his heart on his sleeve. If she was to get out how was he to protect her from going back to the Gallows once again? He couldn't take her along on his many treks across the Free Marches. He could speak to Harlan, but the price for that type of protection would be extremely high and even then he'd be spending his whole life indebted to them instead of having something of his own.

Neveren couldn't do much to stop any of it because of her status as a Warden and she had outright refused to conscript her cousin for the sake of keeping her out of the Circle. It wouldn't be fair for Adria to have to be tied to an organization that she didn't want to be regardless if it saved her life. It was the things that Neveren didn't say about the matter that troubled him more. Even Anders stayed tight lipped given his own past as to how he joined. No one pressed the issue and none of them wanted to see the potential ramifications of a failed Joining.

Fenris flipped over, his head craning back to look out the window for any signs of change in the darkened sky. If it wasn't for the few grey wisps of cloud that seemed to pass at a crawl in the distance, he wouldn't have noticed the faded shades of lavender that sat on their bellies as they traversed form one side of the sill to the next. As soon as his mind acknowledged the coming dawn he shot from the bed and scrambled for various bits of nonsense. What he was trying to concoct for the sojourn to the Gallows seemed to be a triviality. He knew she couldn't keep anything he brought to her, but on the other hand, maybe Neveren could convince the First Enchanter to let one thing slide for her.

The approaching dawn couldn't have been any sweeter as the faded twinkles above were snuffed from the inky canvas. The stale salty air lingered and washed the melon scents of flora across the stairs. He stood outside Gamlen's estate in the hopes of finding signs of life scurrying around within. Yellow beams of sunlight cut over the rooftops in swathes of greyed out shadows from chimneys.

"You're out early," Anders stated from behind him.

The elf jumped and spun around almost ready to strike instinctively. He relaxed slowly when Neveren joined them and to both their surprise she wasn't in her armor and the usual tomboy had looked far more feminine than she usually had. Her white hair pinned back with fine ringlets framing her face to the velvety gown that held her womanly features encapsulated and accentuated curves far more drastic than her heavy armor would allow. The soft honeydew glow of gloss on her lips shimmered in the growing light.

"It is rather strange to see him up before noon," she snorted playfully. She examined him briefly and shook her head with disappointment. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"

"No," Fenris answered.

"You're ready then?" Anders asked. He held out his arm for Neveren to take and the two started walking before they got their answer.

They knew he was prepared for the trek to the foreboding tower across the bay. He nodded, more or less to himself, and followed. The sounds started to grow as the merchants began to set up their shops and guards patrolled, making small talk with each other and the impending shift change. Plans for after work were commonplace and more jovial expressions came across as exhaustion oozing form weary guardians.

"Nervous?" Neveren asked, glancing over her shoulder to the tired warrior.

"No," he grumbled.

She bit the inside of her cheek to hide the smirk that managed to breakthrough no matter how hard she tried to fight it. He wasn't a very good liar apparently and the Warden saw right through the ploy. She stopped briefly and told Anders to continue without them. Fenris grew nervous from the look on her face.

"I don't know how well this is going to go," she explained. "We might be too late already, so I want you to be prepared for that outcome."

He frowned and nodded slowly at the information that began to eat away at him. He reached into his pouch anxiously and found the key she'd given to him in Seheron. His thumb rubbed along the gentle contours to the biting teeth at the end. He gave an accepting sigh and continued walking in silence. There was no way to prepare for what was to come. Whether she was made Tranquil already was beyond any of their control and while he walked and prayed, only listening to the serious tone in his companions' banter he felt the rush of exhilaration when he saw the Gallows so close and yet so far.

Deep within the empty walls of the fortress was the key master to unlocking parts of him he would have willingly given up on if it wasn't for her. She was damnable for stirring such irrational reasons to stay. It was always for her and their freedom ended up in him being a slave to her; for her. He saw no shame in it at all. She saw him in an atypical manner and him for her. If it wasn't for the lack of a weapon he'd have carved a path in templar blood to get her out with no remorse. She belonged to him and no one was going to destroy her for the supposed safety of the populace.

* * *

><p>She couldn't make it stop. The never ending tears that streamed down her face in streaks of red in the darkness only stung the more she rubbed her swollen eyes. She didn't know why it happened, or what subliminal direction made the overwhelming emotions start to pour from her uncontrollably. She rolled her shoulder and licked her lip still tasting blood from the blanket party that intruded on her constantly shattered slumbered. Sers Karras and Alrik were true sadists.<p>

Since Elsa's suicide and subsequent attack, they made their presence known frequently. The promise of protection from Orsino and Neveren didn't stem the assaults or psychological abuse that she had faced constantly. She spent every day in the hole where sunlight didn't penetrate the thick walls of her cell. She was denied food and kept awake for days at a time. Meredith had caught wind of her assault on Karras and had expedited the order for the Rite of Tranquility. Karl had sent word to Anders but didn't know if it had reached them yet. He did assure her that they were prepared to leave when she was. Her hope of actually evading it had waned. She was becoming ravenous, nearing insanity from the lack of contact and the unknown. She screamed for them to release her. She hadn't done anything wrong to deserve this.

Adria shuddered taking in the stale air as she clutched at her wrist tightly. The fabric sling that held her arm to her chest was a reminder of the last night's escapades in evasion of the swings and violations that the templars had tried to force upon her. The compound fracture had even made the healer recoil in disgust. Bones protruding through flesh, bleeding and agony were normal. She was motionless, stoic and numb until the splintered bones were set. Shock was a beautiful thing until the adrenaline wore off only then did everything hit her at once and she vomited on the floor at Keran's feet. She was embarrassed by the weakness as he held her hair out of her face and darted from the room to get her drink of water.

"_You need to do something," she pleaded with a gasp._

"_I can't," the templar whimpered. "They are my superiors and I have a duty…"_

"_What about your duty to protect mages?" she growled as her arm was set in the splint. "What you do is fine, but you have a responsibility to those in your care as well."_

"Adria," Keran's voice uttered through the door. She scooted across the floor but didn't reply. He repeated her name and after a few moments proceeded to let himself in. He stuck his head in and frowned. The familiar sound of chains radiated from the hall. Her green eyes shot up to him and glared. It was a contemptuous sound. "The First Enchanter would like to see you."

"What is it now?" she grumbled, rising from the stony floor and walking to the door.

"He wouldn't say," he replied nervously.

She looked him over briefly and saw the lie. He was holding something back. What it was to her was anyone's guess. Rather than fight the inevitable, she pulled her sling over her head and held her arms out for the familiar shackles to be placed around her wrists. The linen bandage placed lovingly to protect the healing wound scuffed and shifted as he carefully set in to place the usual bindings. She didn't argue or make a fuss, but nodded at Karl and another mage walking in their direction. In the dim light of the condemned wing the new mage seemed so familiar to her. He stopped when he saw her without skipping a moment of his conversation with the mage.

Keran kept adjusting the manacles to make sure they were as comfortable as they were going to be for the duration of their walk. Adria looked over her shoulder and saw that the new captive was no longer there. The templar led her up the stairs and stopped before he pressed open the door. The daylight couldn't have been any more of a weapon to her eyesight than it was. Slow streaming rays through the crack of the opened door was made all the worse for her blood tinged eyes. She didn't want to be seen by anyone, let alone Orsino, who had been the utmost polite to her even when her temper would get the better of her. She didn't want him to know that everything he'd done had basically been for nothing.

* * *

><p>Fenris stared out the window overlooking the courtyard of the Gallows. Mages and Tranquil alike sold their wares as buyers and templars meandered around the stalls. In the background words were being exchanged between Neveren and the First Enchanter with hushed whispers and strange glances. He didn't need to look at them to see that the worry lines in the mage's face seemed to deepen the direr the topic became.<p>

Anders hadn't come with them to the Circle, though from the way he and Neveren spoke he would indeed be there. He folded his arms across his chest and muttered to himself. It wasn't long before Anders came in to the room startling the three of them and spinning the elf on his heels in false hope that it was Adria in a pissed off mood.

In a hushed tone he leaned in to the Warden-Commander. His lips moved, but Fenris couldn't make out what was being spoken, but from the look of anger on the woman's face: it wasn't good. She pulled away and shot a glance to the mage and scowled. Fenris' heart shot up into his throat. Tears welled up in Neveren's eyes and she shook with rage. They exchanged a few words before she cleared her throat and approached. She looked lost in what she was about to say and as she drew nearer, he took a step back and the dreaded thought that they had been indeed late to see her suddenly gnashed his already dwindled hope.

"Um, Fenris, there's something you should know," she started. Her voice was calm, but behind her devilishly black eyes her dimming spirit seemed to leave her and the nervous tic of biting her lip started. She chewed feverishly until her lips were nearing the blood red state. She sighed and looked past him. "Adria was…"

A knock on the door stopped her dead and she turned around. Orsino opened the door and spoke with the templar outside. The chime of chains told him that she had in fact arrived and most likely still had her mind intact. There would be no need to chain a tranquil: they have no will to fight, but Adria was a spitfire and probably for their protection kept her shackled for transport. But it was her and she was alive and he would get to see her, be near her. He'd tell her everything, even if it came out in a long rambling and stuttering mess of pauses and inadequate wording.

The petite shadow crossed the door and dissipated in slow motion. Time dragged out and he thought he'd stopped breathing. His breath hitching, heart palpitating, and nerves frayed as she entered. Her long black hair covered her face. The red robe she wore with spatters of dried blood. Through the veil of thick bangs, were those haunting eyes of hers, peering up at him. The look of shame and shock intermingled with dread.

"Neveren?" she murmured. The Warden smiled weakly at her with a gentle nod. She looked around the room and saw him staring back at her. The turbulent emotions that they shared in silence made her take a step forward. He saw what Neveren had been trying to warn him about. The injuries that marked his beloved fueled a hatred that he tried to hide. Her small fingers toiled in the links of her cuffs and the torment that seemed to mark her face made it all the more unbearable to witness. "Fenris?" Her head dropped along with his heart. She shook uncontrollably and he went to rush to her side. He knew the way her shoulders jostled subtly she was on the verge of breaking down. "Take me back to my cell. Now!" She raised her hands as far as the belly chain would allow them to go.

"Adria?" he stammered.

"Take. Me. Back," she repeated. "I don't want them to see me like this!"

She took a step out of the room and argued with the guard that she didn't want to be there and to tell Meredith that she was damn ready for the stupid ritual. Fenris followed, shoving Neveren out of the way. When she noticed he was there she turned from him to flee but he got to her and clutched her arm. She froze. Her muscles twitched in his hand, but she didn't struggle.

"Come back in the office. Please," he uttered softly.

Her shoulders slumped, yet she refused to move. Fenris looked around the hallway to see if there was anyone that could see them together. He knew that she would be in far more danger than being made tranquil if anyone caught wind of their being in each other's presence.

"Don't, Fenris," she squeaked.

* * *

><p>He wouldn't let her go. As much as she pleaded in her head to make the pain stop, she knew there was no way she was going to escape back in to the pit once he got his hands on her. He was drawing nearer to her. The feel of his gauntlet slipping between the chain around her waist and the cool silken fabric sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes and exhaled. She could smell him. The earthy elven aroma and the heat that permeated the air was rapture.<p>

"I want to look at you," he muttered. She felt the tug of her chain as he pulled her back towards him. "I want to look into your eyes. I want to tell you how much I missed you."

She knew that they couldn't stay like this forever and that eventually one would have to concede to the other. Adria made the first move. Slowly and fearfully she turned to look at him. She tried to give him everything he ever wanted in that moment. She couldn't look at him. Every time she tried to raise her glances to his piercing eyes, her will failed and it was back to looking down at her manacles with a frown. She shook her head when the steely tips of his fingers brushed her hair over her shoulder. They rode the path along her neck and around to the back of her head. It was a firm touch and chilled enough to move her closer to him. The urging couldn't be stopped. She didn't want it to. It needed to quickened, forceful, an erasure of reality.

Her eyes finally shot up and within a moments breadth she had him pressed again the wall. Her body molded to his as he let her break the barrier of chains and broken nightmares. They both heard an altercation going on, but neither bothered to acknowledge it. She fought to put her arms around him, which frustrated the pair. Fenris pushed her off and smiled. He glanced at Keran, his eyes narrowing on the young templar and now Meredith who was arguing with Neveren again.

"Give me the key," he ordered. His voice was threatening as his hand rose to receive the small trinket from her guard. "Now."

Adria had never heard such defiance from him. The strength that stopped the raised voices into looking at him with confusion even startled her. He waited patiently as Keran looked to Meredith for instruction. The scowling woman glared at the lovers; she said nothing but menacingly and methodically approached Adria as if to snatch her away from the elf. Fenris took a step between the two of them.

"It's okay," she muttered with a faint smile.

"It's not okay. I promised myself I'd never see you like this again. No one is to chain you up, regardless of whether they argue you're a threat. You are hardly a threat," he insisted.

"Meredith, you plan on doing the Rite anyways. Just give her the chance to say good-bye properly," Neveren asked.

"She shouldn't even be out of her cell. If this is your doing Orsino: the Grand Cleric will hear about your hindering condemned," Meredith scowled.

With the continuation of the verbal sparring, Keran walked around Meredith, Orsino, and Neveren and casually placed the small key in Fenris' hand. They both looked at and with a final sigh; he held Adria's shoulder with a scorned look and headed down the hall. She knew that he had an infatuation with her and this was his gift to her. He had forsaken his role and let her be free, even if it meant just a little while with the person she had truly wanted to be with.

As she turned her head to watch the young templar leave, she caught a glimpse of calculation as if decisions were being made with little problem of doubting afterthought. Her thoughts were broken by the warm embrace of Fenris' arms wrapping around her waist. His fingers nimbly fiddled with the key until her shackles fell and hung near her knees. The pair smiled as he made quick work of the confinement. No one noticed her standing there, unbound, grinning from ear to ear that her elf was so near. Once her ankles were unleashed, she picked up the restraints and tossed them into the pack of bickering fools.

Their voices fell silent as they looked at the haphazardly thrown chains and to Adria who defiantly stood with her arms crossed and head cocked in her normally sassy position. She sized them up, fully prepared for the appearance of templars once Meredith realized what was happening. She glanced over their faces one by one awaiting the aftershock that was inevitable from her unleashing. Neveren beamed once she realized that Fenris had taken his place behind her, an unmistakable smugness that was overpowering and energizing.

"Ser Thrask!" Meredith shrieked when the ginger haired templar passed through an open door. "Take this mage back to her cell! I want the Rite of Tranquility performed immediately!"

Adria looked up at Fenris and frowned. Their fun was concluded and they knew that the time had come for to an end. Thrask touched her shoulder and led her along. Her fingers splayed and stretched as far as they could; leaving Fenris' fingertips until he nodded that it had finally been the time. She kept her composure as Thrask walked her back to her cell. They exchanged glances and sorrow seemed to be the only feeling the older templar could express. Adria feigned a smile which did little to soothe the anguish he had.

He began to close the door, unable to look at her anymore. She stepped forward stopping it just before it shut. He looked over his shoulder and saw her on her tip toes trying to look him square in the eye. Though they both figured her fate was sealed, he gave her the benefit of a brief pause.

"It's not your fault, Ser Thrask," she cooed reassuringly.

"I can't believe Meredith would demand something like this. She shouldn't have considered it given your emotional duress that day," he argued.

"Everything will be alright," she softly muttered as if unmoved by the Rite. "You've done what you can. One day, hopefully, I can return the favor."

He gave her a perplexed look and shook his head. His obliviousness to her words was taken with a grain of salt. Granted he had no clue of her intent to break out of prison or the people she was going to be rescuing, it was probably for the best that he didn't. She didn't want to risk him getting in more trouble for even staying there long enough for her words to snake into his ears. She took a step back, acknowledging his despair with a nonchalant blow of her bangs.

"I'm sorry, Adria," he uttered.

"Just be careful, Thrask. When it's all over, I hope you realize that there are worse things than apostates and blood mages that plague this city," she scoffed with a calm glimmer in her eye.

He nodded in agreement and shut the door without a word. The black approached as it always had and desecrated the once bountiful light. She rested her head on the rusted steel and counted the heavy footfalls from the templar. She could hardly believe that none of them had put up much resistance to her having to be dragged away to await her "execution." Even she was enamored by her passive attitude. It was as if everyone knew that as soon as she was unharnessed and left to affect her own stubborn personality, that she'd crossed a line that was more a hangman's noose than a carving in the sand.

* * *

><p>As they stepped on to the docks, Fenris felt the cold eyes of Neveren and Anders examining him. They hadn't spoken the way back and from the look on the woman's face, they were lucky to get out of their at all. He inhaled sharply, taking in the ill air of fish fermenting the harsh sunlight. He was nauseaus from all points that surrounded him. The tainted air, heat, Adria. Everything seemed to have fallen apart before his eyes. He ran his fingers through his airs before glancing at them out of the corner of his eyes. The Wardens remained motionless, awaiting some show of spontaneous enlightenment.<p>

He had tried not to think of the overwhelming task that would need to be tended to. It was monumental and suicide. What would he possibly do to keep her safe once she had gotten out. She would be a fugitive. Not just an apostate but a condemned convict on the run. He would take down anyone that posed a threat to her, but with little warning of when the templars and city guard would be coming to do searches for her; she was as good as captured immediately again.

"We can't wait here all day," Neveren growled in frustration.

"Are we even sure they are going to do it today? Meredith is cunning enough to use that against all of us to keep everyone at bay," Anders grumbled.

"Is it really worth the chance?" Fenris finally muttered.

He ran his hands through his hair and started walking. He knew what he had to do and it would take some bartering with Harlan to accomplish what he intended. Cutting past the fishmongers with a disgusted look on his face, he headed to the Rose. His boss would be there and a deal would hopefully be cut to get Adria protection and him an advanced warning for eventual templar raids on their dilapidated estate.

As much as he hated walking through Lowtown, Hightown wasn't much better. Snooty dilettantes with their suitors, traipsing around as if every stone and brick was made especially for them hindered any growth towards respect for a city that would send both he and Adria out of town with pitchforks and torches if they ever found out the amount of damage and trouble their mere presence created. He was thankful, however, of the mitigating fact that he wouldn't be running alone. Even though the little princess had wanted to return home, she enjoyed the chase; whether it was Danarius' bounty hunters or him, she couldn't get enough of the cat and mouse game.

The Blooming Rose was busier than it usually was for that time of day. He made his introduction to Madame Lusine, while eyes from the various Coterie members and harlots that sold their flesh cheap spied him. Several women called for him to join them, but he ignored the catcalls and playful jabs from the men, and made his way to Harlan's office.

It was nearly dark in the large room where several underbosses congregated around a table lit with several fashionable candelabras. A heavy handed game of Wicked Grace was played with threatening glares being shot to the other players at every turn. Harlan excused a heavy set man and nodded for Fenris to approach. The elf's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and noticed a sharpened dagger protruding from the desktop, covered in blood and more menacing than the armed guards that drew closer with every step he took.

"It has been some time, Fenris. What is it that I can do for you?" Harlan asked with a smirk.

"It's Adria," he began, stopping when Harlan's eyebrow rose curiously.

"The little wench that broke her contract with Lusine?" he growled. Fenris cringed and nodded. He despised her being called that. She was a free woman and wasn't under penalty as long as he kept up his end of the bargain to pay off her debt. "The same one who managed to get herself caught by the templars?" Again, he nodded and sighed. "What about her?"

"I would like advanced warning from when the templars will be searching both our estate and her cousins," Fenris explained.

"That is a large order to fill. You already owe me dearly for her breached agreement. You don't have much in terms of bargaining power in this," Harlan explained.

"I understand that. If it keeps her safe from the templars and city guard then I'm willing to pay it."

Harlan's facial expression changed. His dark eyes narrowed as a smirk grew wider across his face.

"So what are you willing to do to pay for these preemptive notices? For a free man, you seem awfully tied to a master."

"I didn't come to argue about that. The semantics behind my reasoning are not why I am here. I'm here to make a deal for her welfare. You've already got me doing your dirty work for little to no money. Take the rest of what I earn and put me to work on something more difficult than protection for your couriers. I've proven more of an asset to you than several of your other peons," he snapped.

They stared each other down. Neither one was willing to back down to the other without some agreement. Harlan knew of his attachment and would have let hellfire rain down on him in smoldering embers if it meant his pale skinned lass were kept out of harm's way. Fenris' knew that he'd done a lot despicable things and was willing to go further if it meant he got what he wanted and need.

"Have a seat, Fenris. Let us discuss the details of your proposal and see what we can come to terms with."

* * *

><p>"Adria."<p>

Her head lifted from her arms and looked at the door. She didn't move nor respond to the voice. She was heavy, sleepy, and ready for what was to come. She'd kill everyone in her way now that her day had come. It wouldn't matter whether it was Thrask or Keran, but deep down she prayed that it would be Karras or Alrik that got in her path. Her head fell again on to her arms. If the day couldn't have gotten anymore enlightening she might have sprung to her feet with a skip in her step and played her childlike card, like she always had.

"Adria."

Her name came with more force than it had before. It stirred something in her. It might have been curiosity or just the pleading for the annoyance to go away, but she stood, dusting herself clean and staggering in exhaustion to the door.

"What is it?" she questioned.

The door swung open and Keran walked in. His eyes were wild with mixed fear and determination. He pushed her further in to her cell and closed themselves in it. She looked around, unsure as to what the young templar had planned. Her eyes darted around looking for an exit. Keran raised his hands and frowned.

"You need to go," he stated coldly.

"What do you mean go?" she stammered sheepishly.

"Get out of here."

"Are you serious?"

"I am," he snapped. He grabbed her hand and placed a key in her hand. She looked down at it and shook her head. "Take it. Use it. You know exactly where you are going."

"What about you?" she squeaked.

He unsheathed his sword and handed it to her. She shook her head again and took a step back. Whatever he had intended for her to do was a place she didn't want to tread.

"Knock me out. Take the sword. I'll be alright," he whispered. "Alrik is preparing for your ritual. I'd rather see you gone than turned into a husk."

"Are you sure about this?"

"As sure as anything."

Adria didn't know what to say or do. She held the sword, examining its fine craftsmanship and smiled. She pecked him on the cheek, giving him the go ahead to prepare. He turned from her and went to his knees. Her small hands rang the handle nervously. Inhaling slowly to prepare herself for the blow she was going to lay on him, she closed her eyes. She shook regretting already what she was going to commit against him.

"I'm sorry," she uttered.

She brought the pommel down across his skull. The sickening thud of metal striking bone reverberated in the air. He toppled in silence. She checked him to see if he was alright and darted from the cell when given confirmation. Her head shot from one direction to the next. The hallway was empty as far as she could tell.

"Adria! You're out?" Merrill squeaked.

She opened the Dalish's cell and waved her along. They hurried; quietly opening Karl's, Feynriel's, and Alain's doors. The young mage wouldn't move. Adria tried to argue that they didn't have time to fight about what was going on. Alain apologized, swearing that he couldn't leave Grace. The four mages looked at each other and to the door next to Alain's. Grace had said she would come, but now without reason she had decided to stay.

Chainmail shambling down the hall made them slam his door without much fuss and headed in the opposite direction of where the templars were coming from. Taking several corners and staying near the wall they pressed on; stopping only when their captors would patrol near them. Karl pointed to a small alcove and they moved once the coast was clear. He pulled Adria aside as Feynriel opened the trapdoor and let Merrill slide down.

"Here." He slammed a small vial of volatile glitterdust into her hand. He closed her hand around it and sighed. Adria was confused by this action. She opened her mouth to protest what he was doing but he pressed his finger to her lips and shook his head. "I'll be right behind you."

He rushed off as several templars turned the corner and headed in their direction. Karl called to them drawing their attention away from her. She watched them for as long as she could, listening to her name be called from behind her. Within a few minutes, Karl was being dragged away. He was limp. Unconscious. She swallowed hard when she saw Alrik approach them. It was a dreaded moment. She couldn't get away from it and now her friend was going in her stead to his demise.

"Adria!" Feynriel yelped.

She spun around and slipped through the trapdoor being held ajar for her. She nodded for him to go before her, giving a final once over to the damnable place before climbing down the ladder behind them. When they reached the bottom, she slipped the vial of glitterdust into her components bag and started walking. It should have been an easy path out of there, which seemed to be more easily described as a labyrinth of tunnels.

"What do we do now?" Merrill chirped.

She sat on a mossy rock and looked up at the careworn woman. Adria shook her head and paced. She had hoped that Neveren or Anders would at least have been there to accompany them back, but from the looks of it, they seemed to be on their own. The mage slammed the tip of the sword into the soil and leaned. She took it all in. The essence of bittersweet freedom filled her lungs. The slow trickle of water sang a hymn all its own. If it wasn't for what the intended tunnels were used for, the place would have been tranquil. Adria sighed, dislodging the blade from the earth and started walking. Feynriel and Merrill kept pace, but remained silent.

"I'll take you guys home," Adria stated. "I'm sure you want to see your mother, Feynriel."

"What about Merrill? She's a Dalish?" the boy asked.

"Oh don't worry about me. I'm sure I'll make do," she chimed. "I do not wish to return to my clan. Kirkwall seems like such a vast place to get lost in."

"It is," Adria chuckled.

"Oh, then that's a good thing. I think it is anyways," the elven lass beamed.

"Then I'll take you to the Alienage and deal with the ramifications of what we are doing once I know you two are safe."

They continued along the dank paths and foreboding crevices that were only traversable with a rickety bridge. The three of them stood close, always on the lookout for danger. No one spoke given that the whole cavern echoed with their footsteps. Adria took several steps and stopped her companions.

"What is it?" Feynriel hissed.

"We're not alone."

The boy tried to see from around her. Instinctually, Adria threw him up against the wall with her arm and shook her head. She glanced around the corner and saw several templars meandering anxiously in the next chamber. Ser Karras' voice cut through the air and the mage's blood ran cold. Her breath grew ragged as her muscles shook with anger. Her hand tensed around the handle of the sword as the predators had finally become the prey. She smiled sadistically at the templars' little predicament they had no idea they found themselves in. It couldn't have been set up any better than it had been. As long as she didn't give away her position too soon it would make for a perfect blitz attack.

Adria didn't have time to think about what to do when a jolt of pain hit her shoulder. She looked down and saw the long slender shaft of an arrow protruding from her flesh. The templars began pouring in from the chamber into the confining one the three had found themselves in. She took several steps back and bumped into Feynriel and Merrill.

"What do we do?" the boy yelped.

"Do you want out? You're going to have to fight for it now," Adria growled, wrenching out the intact arrow from her joint.

"Now, Adria, that's no way to think," Ser Karras chuckled. "Come back to the Gallows and we can settle this amicably."

"We're going to fight," Merrill yelled.

"Good. Just leave the jackass to me," Adria stated raising the sword and pointing it at the templar commander.

She closed her eyes summoning all the power she could consume from within. She stilled, her heart growing even. Hot blood poured down her face, regardless she didn't move. Her head cocked and picked up the sounds of boots scuffling across damp top soil. It was scattered, violent and when the first swipe of air neared her she dodged and slashed at the trespasser. Her blade struck metal then meat, rattling her hands angrily in the process. Everything was slowing down; sounds of combat became a din and only the remnants of bodies falling made her open her eyes. In the blood haze she saw Karras coming towards her.

_Fight or die. Death or Fenris._


	33. Chapter 33

She had little time to react to the oncoming attack. Her eyes seared in pain, but she fought the urge to blink away the residual blood from her eyes. She heard Merrill sling a spell at a templar's approach. Feynriel was huddled in a corner, cowering, nervous to the death and destruction the women were causing. Her shoulder throbbed angrily and as she scrambled to a templar's fallen body Karras did something she hadn't saw coming. Immediately her reserves were drained. The power she had invested was spent and all her strength faded. She was winded and the weight at which the heavy sword pulled at her arm made her drop it to the ground.

The templar sapped her and in her dazed state, he swung. Her body naturally flowed around her attacker deftly. Her head spun rapidly only to send the nauseatingly overridden whirling to a crashing halt. She shook it off, recovering with a swift kick to Karras' back. He flew forward, staggering several feet and recovered. He whipped around and in her mind the world seemed to slow to a crawl. Merrill had run to Feynriel's side to protect him from a hunter that had decided to take advantage of the fearful boy. When Adria looked at her assailant again, she remembered something from Alistair when he had done the same thing to her during practice.

"_You'll be weary, but it's not the weight of the sword that causes the damage – it's where you hit them."_

She rushed to her fallen sword and blocked another swing. Her hand slid up the razor sharp blade, gashing her tender skin and making it stick to the handle. She tensed as Karras came at her again. She refused to move from the bullrush the templar had started. Merrill squealed as mage and templar collided into the ground. The combatants' weapons were thrown in the collision and as Karras raised a fist to hit her, she struck first - walloping him in the side of the head with a rock. He toppled over, clutching the torn flesh in his hand. Adria darted for a nearby weapon and shield and hoisted them up. She paused, letting the older and stronger of the two ready himself. It might have been stupid to let him arm up for the fight, given that she was still at a greater disadvantage, but she also wasn't one to dirty fight.

"_That'll be your downfall. When you see an opportunity: take it. There's nothing wrong with being an opportunist when your life is on the line."_

Before she could change her mind about letting the seasoned fighter arm himself, he was already lunging at her. She blocked with the shield. The sound of metal scraping metal was ear piercing with the great acoustics in the cavern. He kept coming at her, never letting up until he wrapped his blade around her shield and caught her side. The sword bit deep into her causing her to scream loudly as he pulled it along her flesh. She staggered back, taking another blow to the dented shield, before the agony set in.

Adria winced, feeling hot blood trickle down her leg. It pooled where her foot had drawn grooves into the earth. Her head swam as she recovered herself. Adrenaline and anger entwined into a powerful explosion of bloodlust. She shoved the templar back with the shield and threw it aside when he skidded backwards. He fell to a knee and slashed at her as she closed on him. She parried his swing and kicked him over. He scurried to his knees, but she stopped him with a jab of the pointed steel in his face.

"How did you know we were going to be here?" she growled.

The templar snickered and shook his head. She cut the blade across his face and he groaned angrily. She repeated the question and saw Karras jolt to life. He toppled over; the smell of ionization permeated the air. Adria looked around and saw the satisfied look on Merrill's face. She nodded in amusement and hoisted the templar to his knees again. He hacked several times and shot a glare at the elf.

"Grace."

Adria snorted at the revelation, but she wasn't surprised by it at all. The little witch had seemed to be distancing herself when the group had decided to flee when they got the first available chance. And now, Karl was doomed to have the fate that Adria was destined to have. If he hadn't tried to be the hero in the final moments just before their escape, he would have been there to aid her. She fumed instantly and ordered him to his feet. She never took her eyes off of him as he stood. Adria led him around to the center of the chamber and stopped when she was satisfied with where she was going to execute him. It's the least she could do to avenge those that had been wronged by the so-called protectors of the faith and mundane.

"Merrill, take Feynriel and go," she ordered without looking over her shoulder.

"But…" Feynriel bleated.

"Go. Now!" Adria yelped. "I'll be along shortly."

* * *

><p><em>The Hanged Man<em>

"So how did it go?" Varric asked.

Fenris sat silently; his eyes focused on the mug full of frothy ale. He shrugged, not wanting to discuss what he had seen at the Gallows and as much as he wanted to gush about Adria, he couldn't face the fact that maybe it was his fault that the expedited Tranquility was probably underway. He lifted the mug to his lips and held his breath as he took a mouthful of nausea-inducing fluid. The dwarf kept watching him with sickening amusement. It was as if he wouldn't look away until he had said something about the morning up until the moment he stepped foot in the establishment.

"She's fine," he muttered.

Varric shook his head at the lack of enthusiasm but abruptly changed his tune when Isabela walked in to the room. She greeted the men and plopped down across the table from Fenris. A heavy bottle of cheap whiskey slammed the table with enough force to knock over several trinkets.

"How did it go?" she questioned.

"Fine," Varric interjected, knowing that the elf's demeanor had grown ice cold at her presence. "What are you up to, Rivaini?"

"Nothing? Nothing at all really," she replied. She glanced at Fenris and smiled her usual come hither smirk. "I figured since Fenris was here to drown his sorrows that his trip to the Gallows didn't go as expected."

Fenris sat up and rubbed the exhaustion that had been gnawing at him away. He stretched; swearing under his breath that he hated being the center of attention, but from the look on Isabela's face, she was rather enjoying the gravelly gruffness that he emitted. He felt like he was going insane waiting for Adria to walk in the door with Neveren and Anders hot on her heels. Out of the corner he always thought he was there smirking at him playfully. The love in her eyes - that he felt undeserving of - sent his body into near rapturous tingling.

"I heard you were going to be pulling some dangerous work in for the princess," Varric jabbed.

"You still think she'll break out of the Gallows?" Isabela asked with a frown.

Fenris' eyes narrowed on the bronze skinned woman and chuckled. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she wouldn't at least attempt to get away from her captors. She'd have been willing to do anything, even if it meant destroying anyone in her path. Friend or foe, confidante or ally, it didn't matter. Everyone was a liability in her eyes. Even pulling what they had in front of Meredith and Orsino was more of a novelty to Adria. She knew exactly what she was doing when she tossed the rusted chains into the pack of seething hypocrites. It was one giant screw you to them. The same way she did it to Danarius when she had the chance. She didn't want to be held down or restrained. Her spirit was boundless and never ending. If she was to fail, she wouldn't go down quietly and she would have destroyed a good chunk of land before falling.

"If you saw the look in her eye and knew her like I do: then yes, I'm sure she's already masterminded her way to escape," Fenris chuckled with a heavy sigh. "Looking at her she seems like this innocent waif of a woman, but behind those deadly eyes of hers: the gears and machinations of a genius grind on. Constantly plotting and waiting. She's very patient. She had to be for a long time."

"Like I said, Rivaini: you don't want to be on the wrong side of her," Varric snorted.

He nudged Fenris in the shoulder and startled laughing heartily till tears welled in his eyes. The elf rolled his eyes at the dwarf's display and continued sipping the putrid alcohol. He wiped the foam from his lip and closed his eyes. Something in the air caught his imagination and started it on a trip that hadn't been voyaged in some time. The feel of Adria's skin in his hands, the scent of her hair as she would walk by; everything came back in picture perfect clarity.

"I'm not afraid of her. She seems like more trouble than she's worth. But only Fenris can attest to that," Isabela stated with a scowl.

"I could, sure. She's about as much you are."

"But unlike her, I'm not some ice princess with a heart of glass. I, at least, see the fun in everything and everyone," the pirate purred. "She seems like the type of person who needs to unwind and not be a wet blanket on everyone's fun."

He felt the toe of her boot slide up and down his leg provocatively, making him jump from the chair and glared down at the Rivaini woman. She smugly smirked and winked at him playfully. Varric whistled, stunned by the insult but remained silent for Fenris to fight this battle by himself.

Without a word he left. He was infuriated by Isabela. Maybe she spoke some truth, but he knew Adria better than any of them. Sure, she was a rampant pessimistic cynic, but so was he. They had always prepared for the worst in the event things fell apart. The paranoia that was always on the forefront of their minds had kept them alive. There might have been a hiccup when she went to the Circle, but she had prepared for that eventuality. It was inevitable that templars would come and find her.

He stood outside the Hanged Man and watched as several low priced prostitutes bartered for small deals with their johns. Several of Athenril's henchmen walked past him without acknowledging him. They were in the midst of a heated discussion about the Coterie interrupting their business. He knew what they were talking about. He'd been on several hits on their convoys and trade agreements. While it bothered him a little that he had damaged a former alliance with the small syndicate, the Coterie was better financed to meet his needs. Even if Adria hadn't broken the agreement eventually he would have gone to them for work.

"Are you ready to go?" Neveren called from across the way.

He hadn't even seen her approach. It was a rare and strange event; given that he was always at the ready in the event slavers came to stake a claim on their bounty from Danarius.

"Is there anything we need? Who is coming with us?" Fenris rapidly questioned without taking a breath.

"Anders is waiting for us by the entrance," she replied as they hurried towards the Undercity.

"That's it?" the elf gruffly questioned.

"That's it," Neveren remarked in a sing-song voice. "We don't want to announce our presence to every templar and guard in the city. Now do we?"

He was instantly rejuvenated by the sensational thought that in a matter of hours he would be holding Adria in his arms again. His body ached in anticipation. The fine hairs stood on end all over his body with excitement and glee. Various spot on his body were hot and painful to the touch. He thought it was exhaustion; it couldn't have been anything else. Why would it be?

* * *

><p>"I doubt anyone will mourn a few robes' deaths," Ser Karras snapped.<p>

"I doubt it, too," Adria snorted. She pointed to the ground with the blade and ordered him to his knees. "At this moment in time, it doesn't really matter, does it?"

She circled him, stopping behind him and examining the dings that marred his once shiny armor. Her eyes went down along his back to the cloth that had rested at his ankles. She lifted the fabric with the point of her blade, exposing the back of his legs. They were only shielded with greaves on the front; however, the calves were unguarded. She looked them over, eyes darting from one leg to the other before stabbing the sword into his leg.

"I'm going to kill you, you bitch!" he screamed through clenched teeth.

Adria laughed haughtily and came back to the front. She showed him the blood that dripped from her steel and slung it in the air, sending a sprinkling of red, inky fluid into the air. She grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head back. Her eyes penetrated his skull as primal urges sunk in, taking hold and whisking her soft demeanor in to a diabolically baneful evoker of retribution. She snorted with amusement; her head cocking inquisitively.

"There's one thing I'm thankful for learning while in Tevinter from my master," she hissed.

She threw his head down forcefully and circled around to his back. His wounded calf dribbled blood. In her eyes, the damage wasn't near as dreadful as she thought it would be. She held her side, feeling her own blood trickle between her fingers.

"What's that?" Karras grumbled.

He started to turn on her and with an unnaturally calm demeanor; she sliced the blade across the top of his heel. It was sloppy, painful, and through the leather of his boots, she saw the muscle twitch. Karras wailed, gripping the profusely hemorrhaging wound. He swore at her, reaching out to grab her and exact his own forms of punishment. Adria took a step back and smiled.

"Apathy for those you are inflicting pain on. I have neither remorse nor regrets. My intentions are my own and yet…" she paused when she heard rushed footsteps coming towards her. She ignored it, resuming her diatribe, "…I still don't feel as if I've done enough. Every action and reaction you can and are willing to control comes down to a singular thought. I'm not exacting revenge upon you. Oh, no. You could tell me the Maker is the only one that can judge you for your wrong doings and that His justice is swift, but where is He? How come He's not inflicting it on me?"

The templar groaned and tried to rise to meet her face to face. Adria took a step back and watched the dangling of his left foot. She pointed it at it, alerting him to the limp, hanging appendage. It didn't matter, he wasn't listening. As soon as he tried to put his weight on the nearly severed limb, he toppled over in agony. Adria laughed at his ignorance to her warning. The writhing and whimpering he was doing made the game all the more enticing to play. She pulled a small vial of potion from her pouch and gulped it down. The pain had diminished slightly giving her a better edge than she had before.

"Please," Karras blubbered.

"I'm sure that hurts worse than sin," Adria snorted. "Would you like one so I can prolong this little diversion?" The templar nodded and her sadistic streak brought forth a devious idea. She pulled another vial out of her pouch and dropped it on the ground. His bloodied hand sought it and as his shaking fingers graced the cork, she smashed in under his hand. He inhaled sharply and pulled his wounded hand out from under her foot. "It didn't quite work when the other mages were begging not to be harmed either, did it?" Her forehead wrinkled as if in thought and then shuddered. "You crucify and vilify us when we have done nothing to deserve your backstabbing, egotistical, self-righteous wrath. You say you are doing the Maker's work, but somewhere in that twisted mind all you saw were the supposed self-imposed perks you thought you deserved. Correct?"

"I'm not answering any of your questions, bitch!"

Adria shrugged and placed the blade next to his neck. She chuckled to herself, filled with schadenfreude and vigor. Movement caught her eye and she glanced as Feynriel and Merrill watched her from a short distance away. Karras began to struggle when he noticed the pair of mages looking on as his torturer exacted small amounts of punishment in controlled and thoughtful ways. Adria kicked him back down and frowned. She knew they would try to stop her from exacting a well-deserved and humiliating death.

"You don't want to do this," Merrill stepped in. "This isn't you."

"Are you a mind reader now," she growled. Her hands scrounged through her pouch again and pulled out the small phial of glitterdust. "It doesn't matter what you've seen or not; either way I'm a fugitive." She frowned harder; the lines digging deeper into her young visage. "I just want to see Fenris again."

"You'll find him. Don't worry," Feynriel stated. "Adria, let us help you. You're injured and need to be taken care of medically before you bleed out."

"Think about Fenris, Adria. Do you think he'd want to see you like this? Battered, bloodied, ready to murder a templar in cold blood," Merrill argued meekly. "Please."

"He's not here to judge me and even if he was: he has no right to impede in this."

She pulled Karras' head back and slid the volatile, contained material into his mouth. He fought trying to expel it, but Adria acted rasher, more vindictive. She slammed her knee into his chin, shattering the ampule in the process. He spewed blood all over the ground and a small cloud of shimmering dust rose into the air. She threw him to the ground and nodded that she was finished. Merrill put her arm around her and cautiously led her away.

"What was that?" the templar questioned, spitting the gritty substance out of his mouth.

"Glitterdust. Highly flammable," Adria explained over her shoulder. She pushed the elf away, wanting to move under her own power until she could collapse in exhaustion at Fenris' feet. Too look into his eyes was the reward for her avarice. Her calculations ill met and unneeded. Contemptuous and volatile when those stood in her way: the way Danarius had raised her and taught her through his own actions. She felt her legs starting to give out, but she marched on.

"Even if you kill me here and now, you, your Warden friends, and everyone you've ever loved will come under the wrath of the Chantry!" Karras threatened.

Adria stopped and turned slightly.

"That's funny, because the only ones walking out of this mostly intact are, well, us," the mage snickered.

She raised her hand and ignited a single spark amidst the shimmering glitter. The room erupted in fire. Intense heat blasted their faces leaving them sooty and damp from sweat. The smell of burnt flesh diffused into the damp air. The humidity intensified the stench and it trailed them for a distance. It was almost over. There wasn't much further to go. Adria could feel it in her gut. The wrenching and tugging that was so alien at times became a constant that hounded her with each stumbling step she took.

They walked in silence. Feynriel looked fearfully at her but remained quiet. The wounded mage held her side and hoped that the wound wasn't so horrible as to hinder their ability to move in the event that they came across smugglers. It was when they came to a dimly lit cavern that they stopped. Merrill wanted to press on, but Adria shook her head as she saw the one thing she had been waiting for.

* * *

><p>Fenris had grown weary of the countless dwarves that had littered the tunnels. Their smuggling operations had constantly hindered their movements and was only made worse by the lingering thought that Adria had befallen something quite terrible. He was reckless, dangerous, and at times completely insane. The control he had been taught was pushed aside in the heated battles. It was bloody and he was relentless in his pursuit to find his fair-skinned mage.<p>

When the last man fell, Neveren sheathed her sword and approached with a worried look on her face. The elf straightened, growing more weary by the passing second, but pushing himself along met her halfway so as to keep any conversation brief.

"You need to calm down," Neveren warned.

"I am calm," Fenris snapped, walking over a ripped apart corpse.

"You nearly hit me. I know you are anxious to see Adria, but you are going to get us killed," she growled.

Fenris went to fire off a retort when a low rumble gently shook the ground beneath their feet. Both of them shot a look at each other and hurried in the direction of the explosion. His heart was racing, feet torn and bloody, yet he was numb. Any sort of concussion of that size meant that something terrible had happened and they needed to investigate it immediately. They followed the winding path, avoiding the jagged crags that marred the earth with long penetrating scars.

They walked into a dim cavern and looked around. Vegetation was thick and the pungent smell of cooked meat tainted the air. Plumes of smoke came billowing out of a nearby shaft and floated along like clouds along the cave's ceiling. His eyes burned from ash and as he rubbed away the tears that were welling up, he felt a hand close around his arm. He looked at it, feeling the pain that seemed to irradiate from the Warden's touch into his body, and then to the owner of the limb. He didn't understand what she was doing, but he wanted to press on regardless of what they were going to find.

"Look," she whispered, nodding in the direction of three people looking at them.

"A-a-adria," he stuttered nervously.

Anders and Neveren ran up to the group of mages, but Fenris hung back, his feet refusing to move no matter how much he begged them to continue. As they spoke, he watched as Adria put her hand to Anders' chest and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she muttered with a sudden wince.

Her eyes searched for him and when they met his he couldn't help but feel like he was looking at her through glass. Every movement she made felt like forever. It was vibrant and still. Graceful and he was home. She was back standing in front of him. The slight smile on her face that she wore when he was in her presence.

Adria started walking toward him. Anxiety took hold; his eyes darted from side to side as if he was going to flee. He watched her, the staggering and as her already slow pace slowed even more, he ran to her. He didn't know what came over him but there he was inches away smelling her hair, looking into her eyes. He raised his hand to brush away her dusty greyed bangs and her elation that danced in her eyes changed into something he hadn't seen before.

She grew a deeper shade of white and her head fell into his chest. He put his arm around her and felt her body jostle against his from silent sobs. He held her close, running his fingers through her hair. It couldn't have been more perfect except for the fact that he wouldn't let himself cry in front of them. It was what he wanted to do, but it wasn't allowed. He wouldn't stand for it.

"Shhh," he whispered.

Then he felt it. The dampness against the bareness of his skin, seeping down the crook of his elbow and splashing on to his toes. He pushed her off and saw the wounds on her body. He shook his head and felt like a failure. He fell to his knees with shame and burrowed his face into her gown. He breathed her, the smell of smoke and the sweetness of her blood comingling in a bouquet of raw energy. He clutched at her, making sure she didn't move one step away.

"We need to get you tended to," Anders interjected.

"I'm fine. Really," Adria insisted with a groan.

"You're not fine," Fenris muttered.

He jumped to his feet and fought his gauntlets off. Throwing them to the ground between them and ignoring his beloved's arguments he picked her up, cradling her weak and frail body in his arms. She didn't struggle. She just looked up at him with so much care that he was embarrassed to even be doted on in such a way.

"We'll take her to the Clinic and get her taken care of," Neveren assured him. "Don't worry about it. She's strong."

"I know she's strong. She's stronger than us both," Fenris replied. "I just hope she'll be able to forgive me for what I have to do to keep her from enduring this again."

"I'm sure she will," Merrill finally chirped.

"We need to get going. More templars will be here soon," the Warden said, cautiously looking around.

They made their flight swiftly, backtracking over the bodies and battlefields that they had laid waste to. When they emerged in Darktown, night had fallen. The stink from the sewers couldn't destroy the emotions that were flowing through him. Neveren had stated that she would take care of Merrill and Feynriel and would be back shortly, leaving a sleeping Adria and Anders to make it the rest of the way back to his clinic.

When they walked in to the darkened hovel, the adrenaline finally subsided. The shaking and nausea he felt almost brought him to his knees. He stopped long enough for Anders to light a small lantern and make his way to a cot. They didn't speak to each other. The mage just pointed and with no hesitation or argument he laid Adria down.

"She's lost a lot of blood," Anders stated as he examined her.

Fenris took her small hand in his and squeezed it. He placed it to his forehead and closed his eyes. He didn't want this to be the end. He had just gotten her back and to lose her because he didn't make it in time felt like a betrayal that she had no right to receive. He listened to the soft whir of magic floating through the air. It was the one time, the only time he would allow it from Anders. He needed her to live and if it meant any price he would pay it on her behalf.

When the tingling of magic evaporated into the air, the men looked at her with thoughtful expressions. He hadn't moved in hours and as the sun was starting to hit the far walls overlooking the cesspool below, he accepted it and wouldn't deny it anymore. He laid beside her on the cot and brushed her long black hair over her shoulder. He pressed his lips gently to her cheek and held her tightly against his body.

"I… need… you… I can't make it on my own."


End file.
